


Devil On the Dark Side

by amybeegood



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dark Kylo Ren, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy tale violence, Hades and Persephone - loosely interpreted, Handcuffs, He's the Devil ya'll what did you expect?, Kylo is a Monster, Light Bondage, Monster sex, Possessive Kylo, Put all the fairy tale tropes into a bag, See what comes out..., Sex Toys, Sexual Roleplay, Shake the bag, Shameless Smut, Spanking, Virgin Rey, Whips, elements of BDSM
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-08-01 15:20:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 99,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16287023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amybeegood/pseuds/amybeegood
Summary: Rey orders a vibrator on a recommendation from her online book club. When the hot delivery guy comes back to help her "set up her electronic device" she invites him in... only to learn that he was not at all who he seemed to be...and neither was she.A fucked-up, very smutty Reylo fairytale.Find me on Twitter@beegood_amyfor updates to my ever-growing smut collection and occasional tweets. XOXO!





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Muccimooch333](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muccimooch333/gifts).



> ***Heads up: There are elements of non-con/dub-con to this story that come forth in the roleplaying, but I want to emphasize everything that happens between the characters is totally consensual. However, if it makes you uncomfortable, please find something else to read – there are lots of great fics out there! XOXO!

 

# Awakening

Rey lived alone. And she liked it that way, in general. Nobody told her what to do, when or what to eat, what to read, or when to go to bed. She liked being… _independent_.

Her social life was deadly-dull. Nonexistent, actually, as she’d just moved to town. But, her online book club kept her busy enough when she got bored.

The totally anonymous book club was an easy, safe venue to discuss her newest favorite book series, _Devil on the Dark Side_. Opposite of her life, the series was full of action, questionable morality, and smoking-hot sex.

The story resonated with her on an emotional level, and she specifically related to the main character, a tall, dark, bad boy named Kylo Ren. In the story, Kylo Ren frequently stepped over the boundaries of socially acceptable and taboo, especially with sex.

At first, she’d worried about being judged for enjoying such raunchy literature, but after joining her online book club, she rapidly learned she was not alone. 

The book club members had no problem getting down and dirty discussing the complex storyline and dubious morals of the sexy lead character. They also had no reservations sharing their own fantasies, some of which were so downright smutty they made Rey cackle out loud and blush at the same time.

Best of all, the anonymity made her feel less self-conscious to express herself. She found it liberating.

But, it was all just imaginary, Rey knew. The likelihood of any of her own dark fantasies coming true was slim to none since she lived in a small midwestern town on the edge of nowhere…

She had no social life, no boyfriend, and no strings attached. Except for her book club. She would spill blood for every one of those smart, amazing bitches.

So, when one of the members of the book club recommended a new toy… Well, Rey thought she’d give it a try. Her friend from the book club swore she’d never had so many orgasms in her life with that thing. It sounded interesting, and Rey was excited to try it out.

She’d ordered the vibrator along with several other members of the group, and they asked every day if she’d gotten hers, yet.

Which she hadn’t.

Her attention turned back to the problem at hand. She’d been on the phone for almost an hour now, waiting impatiently while Matt from Amazon helped her sort it out.

Matt had to be the slowest person alive. It was taking him forever to look up her missing order. And frankly, Rey hung onto her patience by the edges of her fingernails…

It wouldn’t have been such a big deal if it hadn’t been so humiliating.

“…Miss Jackson? It shows the order was delivered three days ago… you never received it?”

“No, that’s literally what I just said!” Vexed, Rey rolled her eyes at the phone. “I received _part_ of the order…and was missing the other…part.”

_Please don’t make me go into more detail…again._

“Which part of the order was missing?”

“The Rebel clit-sucking vibrator with the additional attachment for extra suction!”

She felt her cheeks burning at the awkwardness of having to say it out loud. For the third time. 

_Make me say “clit-sucking” one more time, Matt. And see what happens._

It took another ten minutes for Matt to assure her the item she’d ordered was in stock nearby and he would have another one sent via certified overnight delivery. He paused, and Rey heard typing.

Then she heard him talking again, this time obviously reading a few pre-scripted lines from Amazon. Rey let the rest of his canned speech roll in one ear and straight out the other.

God, she was pissed-off.

She felt as if she was the only person she knew who continuously had to deal with shit like this.

Who has to have a long, descriptive conversation about their missing vibrator with a well-intentioned but none-too-smart Amazon rep? _Just me, apparently._

 _Everyone else built up that damn vibrator so much_ , Rey fumed crossly. _All this hassle for a stupid sex toy better be worth it._

After finishing her call with Matt from Amazon, she went online to her book club chat and hotly vented about the latest debacle in her otherwise uninteresting life.

Naturally, the ladies’ outrage and sympathy helped her feel much better.

 

Rey woke the next morning in an okay mood, despite her exasperation from the day before.

Until she dragged herself to her kitchen and discovered she was out of coffee. And it was early. Way too early to have to get into the car and drive to the store for caffeine.

She considered holding out until she got to work, but no, she quickly realized foregoing caffeine would only make her day worse.

So, she hauled on her boots and dragged her tired butt outside into the rainy-cold morning, ready to head to the local grocery store.

And, yep, she should have guessed, her car wouldn’t start.

A dead battery. _Awesome_.

It was too early to bother her next-door neighbor for a jump start, so she slammed her way back into her house and sulked and re-read some of her book until it was time to go to work.

After getting Mr. Skywalker to help her out with a jump, she headed to work and proceeded to have an absolutely terrible day.

As a first-grade teacher, work was always an adventure of sorts. A roomful of excitable six and seven-year-olds could be more frenzied than feeding time at the zoo. And louder.

Some days she had to remind herself she loved working with children. She really _did_ , even if the feeling got buried _waaaay_ deep down on days like this.

Jimmy threw up the minute they all sat down for story time, sending the entire class into chaos.

Ella kicked another little girl for not sharing the glue at craft time.

And what Betsy-Jean told her at snack time set Rey’s teeth on edge.

“My mommy says you’re not mawwied because you are emoshly unwavabull.”

“What?” Rey choked on her yogurt. _The fuck?_

Great. Three weeks into her new job in a new town and people were already talking shit about her. Perfect.

“My mommy says men don’t mawwy giwls who are too indepicance,” Betsy-Jean stated with a confidential nod. _Well, your mommy sounds like a cunt, Betsy-Jean._

“Independent,” Rey corrected automatically, although she was inwardly seething.

 _Your mommy is lucky she isn’t here right now,_ Rey thought, mentally cracking her knuckles. _Or she’d be sporting a new black eye._

Rey wondered if she could get away with getting on her phone and telling her book club chat about this latest embarrassment.

Until she heard a loud crash of what was surely the entire Lego bin falling from its shelf near the cubbies followed by Joey screaming, “A spider! A spider, Miss Rey!”

The only thing keeping Rey going was knowing she had something to look forward to at the end of the day. Hopefully.

 

Rain poured from the dark-grey skies, drenching Rey between the school and the teacher’s parking lot. Of course, she had forgotten her umbrella today. And, naturally, the parking lot was inconveniently located on the opposite side of the playfield.

And, best of all, she’d been so eager to just get home and away from her horrible day, she’d left her raincoat hanging on the hook in her classroom.

By the time she got home, the rain had faded to a slight drizzle. Still, Rey was dripping as she walked up the steps to her front porch, her white button-up blouse plastered to her chest, knee-length pencil skirt clinging uncomfortably to her nylon-covered legs.

She glanced around as she approached her front door, looking for signs of a package, but saw nothing.

_Well, it’s still a little early._

She slipped her hand into her purse for her keys and dug around. No keys. She shook her purse but did not hear them clinking around. _Unbelievable_ , she raged to herself, digging into the corners of her bag and finding nothing.

 _Dammit_. She’d locked her keys in the car.

A tear of frustration ran down her cheek, then another, mixing with the already rain-dampened mess of what she was sure would be all her eye makeup streaming down her cheeks.

_Matt, I swear, you better come through for me today. If this day gets much worse, I’m coming for you personally._

Fortunately, Rey kept a spare house key hidden nearby, awkward though it would be for her to reach it. She set down her purse and slipped off her plain, boring, flats – teacher shoes – and hiked up her skirt so she could climb gingerly onto the porch swing to reach the key’s hiding spot.

She balanced inelegantly as the swing swooped under her feet, bracing a hand against the house while reaching blindly around the top of the light fixture next to the door.

 _Gotcha!_ she thought, before finally grasping the key.

“Uh, _ahem_ …” A deep, masculine voice startled her, and she whirled around in surprise.

She slipped, and the swing rocked her gently off balance. Right into the strong, capable arms of a very tall, very handsome delivery guy.

He caught her with one arm against his rock-hard chest as she crashed into him. She vaguely noticed a shoebox-sized package and an electronic clipboard thingy in his other hand before hearing the clinking of her house key as it slipped from her fingers and fell to the porch…

Then, all the air was sucked out of her lungs as she beheld the prettiest whiskey-colored eyes she’d ever seen in her life. His dark lashes lowered, brows pulling into a slight frown as he returned her shocked gaze with concern.

_Oh, wow. He’s fucking gorgeous._

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you! Are you okay?” he asked, sounding breathless himself.

The husky voice from those full, red lips sent a quiver of lust straight to her womb.

_Oh fuck._

She wanted that mouth to do filthy, dirty things to her. Heat and shame seared its way up her neck, all the way to the roots of her hair.

“Uh.” That was all she could manage.

Her eyes took in inky-dark hair peeking out from under an ugly cap – part of his uniform – and she wondered what those silky-looking locks smelled like.

She felt a reflexive squeeze of his hand against her waist and she inhaled. She couldn’t help but feel her nipples growing hard and straining under her rain-soaked blouse.

_Holy fucking shit, he’s big._

They both hesitated for a fraction of a moment before he lowered her to the ground and cleared his throat again.

“Oh my gosh! I’m sorry! I’ve just had the worst day ever and locked my keys in the car and was getting the spare, and then I didn’t hear you there, and… well, now you know where I keep my spare key, so, shit, I guess I’ll have to find a new hiding spot!”

Rey stopped.

She was babbling. Babbling at the hot delivery guy.

The position she’d been in on the swing would have put her ass right in his face.

_Fucking. Mortifying._

“Um. I have a special package for you,” he murmured, lifting an eyebrow at her explanation.

 _Oh my. Could he have said anything but that?_ Rey thought, immediately recognizing the double-entendre.

She definitely knew what he was holding in those giant hands of his.

_Matt came through._

She glanced at the name tag on his uniform. _Ben._

“Okay,” she replied anxiously, desperate to get a grip on the fluttering sensation invading her belly. “Um. Yes. I’ve been really excited about this package. Your package. Um. My package. Special. Package. That you have. For me.”

She felt her stomach drop to the ground in absolute, horrendous disgrace.

_Fuuuuuck, Rey. Stop talking about the goddamn package._

Her cheeks pinkened again, she could feel it.

He cleared his throat and she watched his neck move as he swallowed.

“Well. I’ve… got it right here. Now you can take it. Off my hands,” he said softly, handing her the box. “I just need one thing from you.”

Those eyes… they _smoldered_. More heat, like flames, licked through her, from her core, through her chest, up her neck and down her arms to the tips of her fingers.

 _Omigod, I’m going to pass out if he keeps looking at me like that,_ Rey thought in a panic. She bit her bottom lip, hard, hoping it would force her to focus.

He pulled a scanner from his belt, holding it up to the package she gripped, and she heard a beep as he scanned the barcode. Then he held out his clipboard for her to sign.

“Sign here,” he muttered. “Please.”

Her hand only shook a little as he loomed over her and watched her sign her name with an electronic stylus.

Then, with a twinkling scrunch of his eyes and a smile that flashed her the briefest glimpse of a long dimple indenting his cheek, he gave her a faint, “Thank you. I, uh, hope your day gets better,” before he turned and strolled down the walkway to the open delivery truck parked on the street.

Those uniform pants he wore were not doing her blood pressure any favors. Not the way the khaki fabric pulled against his tight, perfect ass. Nope. Not a bit.

She watched his tall, lanky frame hop into his truck and heard the engine come to life as he reached down to start it, giving her a slight wave and another smile when he looked back at her.

_Ben, the delivery guy, huh?_

She was going to put that name and her new toy to good use in a few short hours. Just as soon as she got it charged up.

 

By the time Rey found her key again, her heartbeat and breathing had returned mostly to normal. She grabbed her shoes off the porch and went inside, dropping the spare key onto the side table by the door, and hooking her purse onto the coat stand nearby.

When she saw her reflection in the mirror next to the coat stand, however, she groaned. She was a total mess. Her hair hung in lank snarls around her face, her eye makeup streaked down her cheeks, and her blouse stuck to her, obscenely outlining her sensible beige bra under the thin wet fabric.

_So unsexy. Ugh._

He hadn’t been smiling _at_ her. He’d been smiling at her ridiculous appearance.

_Awesome. Great._

She walked to the kitchen in her nylon-covered feet, disconsolately telling herself some hot guy who looked like Ben the delivery guy was probably married with six kids and a dog.

She grabbed the utility shears from the knife block on the kitchen counter and opened her package with a little more vigor than was strictly necessary.

 _Ah well. I’ll always have this,_ she thought ruefully, pulling out an innocuous-looking purple vibrator and the compatible charging cable.

 

The directions told her it would take about two hours to fully charge, so she plugged it into her computer’s USB port and watched the little purple indicator light blink back at her.

While she waited, she went into the kitchen, pulled a frozen chicken pot pie from the freezer and glanced at the detailed instructions on the back.

 _Fuck it. It’s all food, it should cook just fine_. She popped it into the oven at, oh, five hundred degrees sounded good.

While dinner cooked, she dragged herself to her room, stripped out of her wet, wrinkled clothes, unsexy underwear, and miserably uncomfortable pantyhose, leaving them strewn on the floor.

She lived alone. There was no one to stop her from being a slob if she felt so inclined.

 _I sooo need to relax_ , she thought wearily, pulling her hair from its confining, respectable hairstyle.

She took a shower. A long hot one. And while she did, she recollected Ben’s mouth and eyes, and the way his warm solid chest felt when he’d clutched her against him for far too short of a time earlier.

She thought about his huge hands and how much longer and thicker his fingers were, compared to hers…how they might feel if she were to let him…

And the damn smoke alarm went off. _Goddammit – dinner!_

She grabbed a towel and ran into the kitchen where smoke poured from the sides of the oven door. Turning off the oven, she opened the door as more smoke rolled out, making her cough.

The alarm blared insistently, and she yelled at it, “I know! I fucking know!”

So much for chicken pot pie.

She opened all the windows and the back door and grabbed a broom, knocking the smoke alarm from the ceiling with an angry jab of the broom handle.

 _Fuck._ This was not how she thought this day was going to go.

Still in her towel, she poured some wine, drinking it straight down like water. She went to the freezer and pulled out a carton of ice cream. And a spoon.

_If you don’t use a bowl, then you don’t have to wash an extra dish._

Rey was nothing if not practical. _See how great it is to be single?_

Then, with resolute intent, she walked to the desk in the living room, sat down at her computer and proceeded to enter her book club chatroom.

Rey_needs_cock: hey ladies had the worst day ever

little_chill: oh no! did u get ur thing yet?

darcy’s hoe:  had mine going for 3 straight hrs yesterday… OMG

Carolina: Yassss, darcy! Rey – you ok?

BC_Ren: Hell, sorry Rey.

Rey_needs_cock: thx. No I just got it, charging now… can’t wait to try it out.

Carolina: That thing’s gone change your life, sis. Prmoise

Carolina: Promise*

Rey spent the next twenty minutes outlining the saga of her shitty day, of crying on her front porch, and a very detailed description of her encounter with Ben, the hot delivery guy.

Rey_needs_cock: Ugh, he was sooo cute.

Rey_needs_cock: Looks like how I picture Kylo. Tall, dark and fuckable.

Rey_needs_cock: I’m definitely gonna picture him when I break in the Rebel.

darcy’s hoe: OMG! I wish Kylo would step on my face.

little_chill: ugh mood

BC_Ren: Rey be sure you hydrate before you break that thing in!

Rey glanced at the paperback book on the coffee table and typed.

Rey_needs_cock: page 97, ladies…GTG!

Carolina: Ohhh, kinky bitch! Have fun!!!!!

BC_Ren: Later Rey

BC_Ren: maybe your day will get better…

little_chill: can’t wait for the update

darcy’s hoe: better hear your screamin from Florida girl! XO

 

She rolled her eyes, grinning for the first time that day, then went to the kitchen and dutifully drank a glass of water.

_Never a bad idea to hydrate._

Finally returning to the living room, she observed the toy sitting next to her keyboard just as the purple light went from blinking to solid.

_Okay. That’s a sign. Let’s see if this thing is as good as everyone says._

She grabbed her new vibrator and sat on the couch, thinking of a very pretty pair of whiskey brown eyes.

She was still naked under her towel; the wine had calmed her nerves somewhat. Now it was time to see what all the fuss was about.

She had just figured out how to hold down the power button and get the damn thing turned on when she heard a knock at the door.

_What now?_

She secured her towel and marched to the door, flinging it open rather fiercely.

“What?!”

_Oh. Fuck. Ben’s back._

“Um. Sorry. What’s up?” she said sheepishly. Did she need to sign something else?

He stared at her, frozen for a full minute before he spoke. She noticed he wasn’t wearing his uniform cap anymore and couldn’t help herself from staring at the thick hair that curled around his face and collar.

_He has better hair than I do. Unfair._

“Uh. Hi,” he said in his quiet growly voice that instantly made her wet. “I’m so sorry. I made a delivery today and didn’t notice until I got back to the warehouse… Your order was scheduled for electronic setup from the delivery company. That’s me.”

“What?” Rey asked, agitation flooding her.

_Matt. I’m going to fucking hunt you down and murder you. Seriously?_

“Yeah, we’re a full-service company, and I missed the note on it earlier, so I’m here… to help… set up…  your electronic device?” He bit the inside of his cheek, and Rey found herself captivated as she noticed his teeth were a little crooked.

“Oh! Here’s the order sheet…” He pulled a folded-up, yellow piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. She took it from him but was more interested in how his eyes traveled over her half-naked form, still wrapped in nothing more than a skimpy towel.

“Electronic setup?” And Rey, who couldn’t help herself, looked over to the couch where her brand-new, as-yet-un-christened electronic device buzzed. _Conspicuously_.

His eyes followed her glance, and if she could have made herself invisible just then, she would have.

“Unless… this is a bad time?” he said tentatively. But there was definitely something else in his eyes, now.

The words _independent_ and _emotionally unavailable_ coursed through her brain, cutting through the humiliation at being caught by the hot delivery dude literally minutes away from getting herself off… with the sex toy he’d just delivered…

Well. She’d already planned to picture Ben while she did it… Maybe she should just try for the real thing, instead.

She watched color lightly tint his cheeks under the soft glow of her porch light and a sweet, melting sensation pooled between her thighs.

She swung the door open wide in blatant invitation and said in her sultriest voice, “Come on in.”

She turned around and walked over to the couch, not daring to glance back to see if he’d bolted away as any sane man would have done…

She heard the door shut – a bit of a slam, really – and sighed. _Yep. He ran. No surprise there._

But, before she could turn, the unmistakable click of the deadbolt snapped her spine straight and a deep, low voice muttered, “The first rule of new electronics is to charge it fully before the first use. Did you do that?”

Rey’s mouth dropped, and her heartbeat skipped in her chest as she whirled around.

Ben the hot delivery dude stood next to her locked front door.

“Uh. Yes?” Her reply came out more like a question, because, really, how the hell was she supposed to form coherent sentences, let alone thoughts right now?

“Good girl,” he replied evenly. “The second rule is to read the owner’s guide. Safety information is there for a reason.”

His eyes prowled around the room, landing on her copy of _Devil on the Dark Side_ , which Rey had opened to page 97 and, instead of using a bookmark, had left spread upside down on the coffee table.

The air in the room sparked and snapped with electric tension. A frisson of fear ran down her spine.

_What if this guy is a psycho? Or a serial killer? That would be the perfect ending to this awful fucked-up day, actually._

He unbuttoned the top button of his uniform shirt and said casually, nodding at the book, “That’s a good series.” He undid another button and took a step into the room. “Although lots of people say only depraved perverts like it.”

Rey’s mouth went dry. _He’s undressing? And talking about depraved perverts?_

Rey’s throat worked convulsively as she tried to process what was happening. Her hands reflexively clutched the towel around her, the buzzing of her vibrator became insanely loud to her ears.

He continued unbuttoning his shirt and she stood there gaping at him.

_I should probably be running for the back door, screaming._

He peeled off his shirt, revealing a white t-shirt underneath. It was tightly molded to the most gorgeous pecs Rey had ever laid eyes on.

“What?” Rey whispered as chills chased themselves from her neck to her knees.

Ben walked into the room and the space went from cozy to claustrophobic. His eyes burned into hers and she couldn’t look away.

Yes, Rey was scared, but not enough to scream or run, evidently… because, fuck, he was hot.

“Do you want me to help you set up your electronic… device, sweetheart?” He walked right up to her, until he was _right fucking there_ , towering over her.

She craned her neck and nodded. “Yes please.”

Her voice only shook a little. Every neuron in her brain was firing at once.

_Holy shit. This is happening._

His eyes flickered over her and he gently gripped her waist. She could feel the heat of his hands through the cloth of the towel. Slowly he walked her back to the couch until her legs bumped against it.

Then, he gave her a gentle shove so she fell back, legs slightly sprawled, the towel covering her just barely.

He knelt in front of her and reached for her. She couldn’t read the inscrutable look on his face, but she understood perfectly what he wanted her to do next when he roughly wedged his torso between her parted knees, widening them so he could lean into her for a soul-shattering kiss.

The instant those luscious lips touched hers, she was gone. He didn’t kiss her so much as invade her mouth, pushing his tongue between her lips as if he had every right to, as if he could do whatever he wanted.

His tongue and lips explored and conquered like he was capturing new territory, each little gasp he earned was rewarded with a squeeze of his hands at her hips or a brush of his thumbs in slow, devastating caresses that disarmed her completely.

Releasing her grasp on her towel, she plunged both hands into his gorgeous silky hair, running her fingers through it until he moaned softly into her mouth. He tasted sweet and dark, like something familiar, and she tangled her tongue with his, trying to discern the elusive flavor.

_Candy… that’s what he tastes like… he fucking tastes like black licorice._

“Did I interrupt your plans for the evening…?” He moved away from their kiss to suck on her neck and she knew if she survived the night, she would definitely have a mark there in the morning…

“What were those plans, exactly?” he whispered in her ear before sweeping his tongue around the delicate edge and sucking her earlobe into his hot mouth. His arms wrapped around her more securely, muscles flexing, and Rey felt faint.

Fuck. He felt amazing. His embrace was hot steel as his arms slid down, bending her back so he could lean over her and angle his lips over hers for another searing kiss.

She barely noticed when he pushed the edges of her towel to the sides, exposing her to him.

She definitely noticed when he reached to the side and picked up her vibrator.

He ducked his chin so he could stare at her squarely in the eyes, crouched down in front of her, wedged between her open legs.

“What have we here?” he asked in mock astonishment.

Rey had a moment of surreal clarity as she realized Ben the hot delivery guy was handling her new sex toy. The damn thing vibrated lewdly, changing tones as he pushed the buttons, figuring out the different settings… Rey recalled someone from her book club mentioning the thing could go for hours.

And he was going to use it on her.

Desire curled through her like fire, then it fanned into an inferno when, without preamble, he slid a long finger between her legs, shaking his head when he pulled it back, glistening with the wetness he found there.

He clicked his tongue at her. “So wet,” he muttered. “Did you read the owner’s guide?”

Rey shook her head. The change of subject left her reeling.

And then he gave her the wickedest smile she’d ever seen. “Hmmm. Let’s see if I can… break it down for you.”

He pushed her legs open, wider now, so her aching pussy was fully visible. He slid his finger inside her again, then dragged it up to firmly push back the hood of her clit, exposing it to him.

Rey gasped and her whole body arched into his touch.

He put the head of her vibrator over her clit and oh – fuck! – it buzzed right into her with gentle suction. White-hot lights exploded behind her eyes as she threw her head back and moaned, “Oh, fuck, oh fuck!” over and over again.

Her hips pulsed in little throbs while he stared at her, watching every expression of pleasure wash over her face. And then, he bumped up the suction and lightly caressed her breast … and she fucking _splintered_ into a million tiny pieces.

It took a grand total of two minutes.

_Holy crap._

“Unbelievable,” Ben muttered, swooping in to give her a devastating kiss. “Let’s see if we can do that again.”

And before Rey could protest, before she could argue – no, sorry, she’d always been a member of the one-and-done club – he put the damn thing between her legs again and gave her another unreal, earth-shaking orgasm.

Rey made noises she never knew she was capable of, wailing incoherently and unashamedly as Ben surveyed her in apparent fascination.

By the end of it, she was wrung out, sprawled open on her living room couch, gasping for breath. A sweaty, achy mess.

“Wow. The ladies from the book club were right. This thing is very effective.” _Fuck, yes it was._ His statement was true, but... _Wait. What?_

He sat back on his heels and stripped off his t-shirt. _Holy fucking hell._

Part of her lost her breath at the view of his naked chest and arms, the way his muscles rippled slightly as he tossed his shirt aside… and part of her mind was still hung up on his earlier proclamation.

_Book club? How did he know about –?_

Her hand fell to the crumpled yellow paper he’d handed her earlier. She frantically grabbed at it and unfolded it…

_A receipt for windshield wipers? What the fuck?_

Understanding dawned and her eyes widened in horror.

His eyes had darkened from whiskey-hued to nearly black as they crawled over her neck and chest.

She tried to sit up.

He snagged her wrists and pinned them into the couch on either side before leaning forward, caging her in.

“Imagine my surprise when I discovered what a kinky little thing you are… Rey. Needs. Cock…” he whispered into her ear. “… we’ve met before.”

“Ben?” she mouthed. _Wait._

“BC_Ren, sweetheart. And you have no idea how much your filthy little fantasy turned me on. Who knew a first-grade teacher could be such a deviant?”

He bit her earlobe and licked a hot path from her ear to her collarbone.

He looked at her pinned there, now struggling under his hands and body, his eyes glowing with arrogance.

“So many helpful little details you gave me… such a twisted little mind you have, sweetheart…”

“Ben?” she asked again, louder. He took a deep breath and released her, sitting back on his heels again.

Her brain had stuttered to a complete halt, even as she arced toward him as he sat back, wanting to maintain the heated contact of their bodies. “You’re in my online book club?”

Her mind scrambled to remember everything she could about BC_Ren. Mostly BC just made insightful comments about what might motivate Kylo Ren’s character. Like she – no, _he!_ – really understood why Kylo was so badly behaved but still such a relatable hero.

Now that she thought of it, BC had always been fairly quiet on the subject of sex fantasies and the more recent discussions about the Rebel vibrator…

“Yeah. I’m in your book club.” The eyes looking back at her still burned with dark desire, but underneath, she could still see Ben the hot delivery guy.

He stood and raked his obsidian gaze over her with delicious intensity.

“Wanna play _Dark_ _Side_ with me?” His tongue swept over his bottom lip and he pulled it between his teeth.

Fuck, yes, she wanted to. She nodded her head. She couldn’t speak a word.

He pulled out a handful of condoms from his pocket. One by one, he flicked them onto the couch next to her. She counted them as he did it. There were five.

She looked at his naked chest and noticed his breathing rather indicated…arousal… The bulge in his khakis looked very promising indeed.

She _wanted_ him.

And before she could stop herself, Rey blurted out, “I’m clean. I mean. I don’t have any STDs or anything.” His stare turned raptor-like at her words, but he didn’t move. “And, um. I have an IUD right now… so… the condoms aren’t…”

She felt her face heat as she realized she’d already told her book club about getting the IUD because her last boyfriend refused to use condoms and the side effects from hormonal birth control were too much for her…

“I’m clean, too, but sweetheart, are you sure about that?” Ben looked her up and down before continuing. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to do…” He waited, standing statue-still.

He was giving her a chance to leave, she realized, or make him leave. But oh, how she wanted him to keep going… Neither of her past two boyfriends had ever been willing to do anything like this.

And BC_Ren would know that. Because she’d lamented the fact in her book club a million times.

He turned his head to the purple toy next to her on the couch then back to her. She grinned at him.

“Okay. Ben –”

Her mind turned frantically to page 97 of her book. _That’s right. The heroine was threatening to leave Kylo because she found out he was spying on the U.S. Government…_

“Who. The _fuck._ Is Ben?” he hissed at her, cocking his head in query. And it was fucking terrifying.

 _And sexy._ “You can call me Kylo Ren.”

“When I answered the door, I wasn’t expecting it to be you… _Kylo_.”

And, damn if the flicker of hot triumph in his eyes wasn’t enough to melt cold rolled steel. She bit her lip.

“Oh, baby. Don’t you know? You shouldn’t just let any stranger into your house. You have no idea if he’s a good guy... or a really _bad_ guy.”

His coldly spoken words sent shivers of dread snaking down her spine.

Either he’d read her mind somehow, or he’d made the crazy-logical guess at what scene she was pulling from… _or he really is a total psychopath, Rey_. Or maybe a mix of all three.

Rey started to sweat as her brain went into overtime at this scenario, basically almost word-for-word from her favorite, darkest scene from the _Dark Side_ series... the one where Kylo has the heroine naked and at his mercy, and he’s pissed at her and… _oh, shit!_

“I know what you’ve done,” she muttered. “I’m still leaving, _Kylo_.”

She yanked her towel around her and stood, making as if to leave. Her heart was going to pound right through her chest as adrenaline surged through her with an electrifying tingle.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Right on cue, he took a measured step toward her, unbuckling his belt with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Now, drop the towel. Don’t make me ask twice.”

He whisked his belt from the loops of his khakis and snapped it in the air like a whip. Shit. He was good at this.

He was too good. _Psychopath. Definitely a psycho._

Fear and anticipation mixed in her like acid, corrosive and hot, as she found herself backing away.

“Come here,” he commanded. He crooked a long finger at her, and her knees almost buckled at the sight of his other hand curled around the leather belt trailing down his leg to the floor.

He took another step in her direction and the blood drained from her face.

Rey clutched her towel around her, turning to run, and watched this perfect stranger lunge for her.

Rey’s sense of self-preservation kicked in too late and she whirled around, but suddenly her arm was gripped by a huge, vice-like hand, and her whole body was dragged roughly back into the rock-solid wall of Ben’s – no, Kylo’s – chest.

She squealed as her back slammed into him, and she opened her mouth to scream just as she felt a thickly-muscled arm wrap around her waist, gripping her so hard the air rushed from her lungs. His other hand wrapped around her neck, just under her jaw.

Hot breath fanned on her neck and he muttered, “All alone… trapped here by a monster like me… poor little girl… you must be fucking _panicking_ right now.” The warm hand at her throat squeezed in warning. “Ah, yes, you are. I can feel your pulse going a mile a minute.”

The heat from his body was furnace-hot and seemed to radiate right into her pores. She could smell him. He smelled just faintly of diesel and some kind of intoxicating aftershave or cologne or something spicy and clean… and underneath it all… darkness and lust.

Teeth scraped under the fine hairs at the back of her neck, damp from her earlier shower and now lightly with sweat from her more recent orgasms, and she felt his tongue swipe along to the sensitive spot where her neck met her collarbone.

A groan ripped from her throat at the sensation, at once frightening and exquisite.

Rey didn’t quite have the courage to head-butt him, but her hands unclenched from where they’d been grasping at the sides of his khaki uniform pants.

Her hands could only hang limply at her sides, as his arm pinned hers down, efficiently cutting off her range of motion.

She struggled against him and he chuckled. That evil sound sent a surge of panic skittering down her spine.

Her breath came in stuttered gasps, now, as she fought harder. She flung her head back, trying to catch him in the face, but ended up smacking it against solid muscle, instead.

_He’s too fucking tall._

She felt him release her, but before she could make a run for it, he’d snagged both of her hands in one of his and yanked her back.

“Trying to fight? That just makes it all the better for me, baby,” he breathed. “Still. Can’t have you running off before we get to the good part.”

Her towel slid down and dropped to the floor and she cried out.

She felt the leather belt slide around her wrists and dig in as he secured her hands together at the small of her back.

 _Is this really happening?_ _The hot delivery guy is trussing me up naked in my living room, and my vibrator is just laying on the couch, no help to me whatsoever_ , she thought erratically.

She drew in a breath to launch a scream, but a large hand clamped over her mouth before she could.

“Shhh. No screaming unless I tell you to…” He nuzzled the back of her neck, and his grip on her face became almost painful. “Maybe later. If you’re good.”

He shoved her forward to the couch, flipping her and pushing her so she sat there, hands behind her back.

“There’s nothing for you here, Kylo,” she stated icily. “I have nothing left to give.”

“Shut up.” He pounced on her and flipped her again, pushing her head into the couch cushions and straddling her legs as she knelt on the floor.

His hot breath on the back of her neck made her tingle with awareness.

“You know I can take whatever I want.”

 _Fuck._ Those words sent shivers up the insides of her thighs to land in a hot throb at her core.

His hands roamed boldly from her hips, up her sides, and around to cup her breasts. He gave her nipples a pinch and Rey felt her inner muscles flex as she grew wet. _Wetter_.

He skimmed a hand around her and up her neck into her hair. He wrapped a fistful through his fingers, gripping close to her scalp. His body pushed her bound hands into her back and she felt the heat from his naked chest pressing into her.

The sensation of being helpless, trapped, was… appallingly divine. Like being anonymous.

She was trapped, and she had no decisions to make, no distractions from the world demanding her attention. Only the person _consuming_ her and his desires and what he was doing to her mattered now.

He slipped a finger between her legs. “Fuck you’re so wet.” In went a second finger and Rey’s body clamped down as she bucked from the pleasure of it.

“Let me go, Kylo!” she cried as he dragged his wet fingers across her lower back.

“You. Don’t. Get. To. Leave,” he stated ruthlessly. He pushed three fingers in and she squealed and jerked against the uncomfortable pressure when he rotated his hand.

The hand holding her hair twisted hard enough for her to cry out.

She felt him lean away and heard the distinctive sound of a zipper being pulled.

_Ohmygod, he’s just going for it. Holy crap._

He slid a finger between her legs and smeared her juices over the swollen lips of her sex before pushing two fingers into her again.

“Goddamn. This is going to be a tight fit,” he grated out.

Rey believed it. His dick was fucking huge. She could tell by the way he ground it against her butt as she knelt there, bent over her couch.

She felt the warm hard heat of his erection slide between her legs, large rough fingers prodding at her, spreading her open, and then the silky-smoothness of the broad head of him pushing into her.

_It. Was. Heavenly._

“Mmmm. Good thing we got you warmed up first,” he muttered. And then he said with such relentless promise, Rey shivered, “Once I’ve been in you, once I’ve fucked you… you’re going to be so _spoiled_ for anyone else… You’ll be wrecked forever… You ready?”

A ravaged groan tore from her throat as he pushed partially into her, gripping her hips with those massive hands hard enough to leave marks on her skin.

“I am going to fucking _annihilate_ your pussy tonight,” he warned her, and she whimpered aloud.

She couldn’t help it. It was the way he said it. Like he meant every word.

He pulled out and thrust into her in one long, slow onslaught and Rey unraveled at the mind-bending sensation of being possessed like that, of being taken over. He was big enough that when he hit her depth she cried out at the blunt discomfort.

He knew exactly what he was doing, too.

He slid out and pushed into her again with such deliberate encroachment her legs trembled and shook.

“I am going to _ravage_ this little cunt,” he vowed.

He pulled out and she felt her body clench around him, trying to hold him in. Then he slammed into her hard enough to make her see stars.

“That’s what you really want, isn’t it?” he demanded, his deep voice husky now with lust.

“Yes!” she screamed into the couch cushion.

He’d aimed for a deeper thrust this time, and she let out an ear-splitting screech.

“Then shut up and fucking take it!” he barked from behind her.

The cadence of his hips took on a steady, rolling motion that had all the power of a tsunami behind it.

Rey’s whole body quivered under him.

His hands skated over her ass, squeezing and kneading the firm cheeks with blatant ownership, then slid down her thighs. He scraped his way back up with his short fingernails scratching just hard enough to draw tingles through her entire body, causing wracking convulsions to course through her.

She felt him change the rhythm of his thrusting to fast little nudges when he loosened his belt from around her wrists.

Then he laced his fingers through her newly freed hands and pushed them down into the cushions next to her head.

He leaned over her and she felt heated, sweat-slicked skin meet her back. He swiped his tongue across her shoulder and up the back of her neck before she felt his open mouth settle at the side of her neck. Teeth dug in as he sucked her there, and it made her pussy clench around him.

He dragged his nails down her arms, down her back and then up her sides, then pushed his hands under her where she was pressed into the couch. He found her breasts and squeezed and massaged them until she bucked uncontrollably beneath him.

Then her world tilted on its axis as he sat back on his heels, pulling her back until he held her, impaled on top of him. She couldn’t reach the couch for leverage and could only cling to the muscled arms holding her up.

At this new angle, her ragged breathing became a series of grunts and gasps as he fucked into her with pulverizing thrusts.

The momentum of his invasion began to build, and Rey felt herself begin to disintegrate, wholly consumed by the moment, by the sensation of him controlling everything, every part of her.

“That’s what you really _need_ , isn’t it? My cock?” His voice became velvety-soft, in contrast to the roughness of his hands gripping hers and the steady pounding between her legs.

“Yes,” she moaned hoarsely.

“Say it,” he ordered.

“I need it!”

“Say it!” he snarled at her.

“I need your cock!” she sobbed.

“Okay….” he grunted, his hand slipped around to rub her clit, still sensitive from getting so much attention just a little while ago. “…you can scream now…”

And she lost her fucking mind.

Her whole body, her entire being, folded in on itself as shuddering pleasure clenched through her, as she shivered and groaned and fell apart against the heated pressure filling her, pounding between her thighs.

She screamed wordlessly as wave after wave of hot, liquid pulses clawed into her, forcing her to compress around him in strong, rippling contractions.

“Oh, fuck-fuck-fuck, that feels so good, baby! Oh fuuuuuck-yeah! Come for me…” he groaned from behind her, pumping up into her before finding his own release with an agonized moan and a hot gush she could feel deep inside.

She fell back against him, boneless, the contractions from her orgasm still rippling through her, as he clutched her against his sweaty body.

“Oh, wow,” she finally muttered when she felt him kiss the side of her neck.

“Yeah. Wow,” he agreed, sliding his hands to her waist and holding her there for a minute before gently lifting her away.

“Seriously. Holy shit,” she whispered, turning around to face him.

His face was sweaty and red, but the eyes looking back at her twinkled. “Did your day get better, sweetheart?”

“Maybe we should keep this whole… situation… quiet in book club…” She couldn’t keep a teasing smirk from her face.

“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked standing up. He leaned over and lifted her into his arms.

She raised an eyebrow. “Why do you need to know where my bedroom is?”

“So, we can try page 147 next,” he said with a smile.

“I’ll tell you if you answer one question for me, BC_Ren,” she murmured, staring at his mouth.

“Anything.”

“What does BC stand for?” she asked curiously, raising her eyes to his.

A sinfully roguish smile spread over his face before he answered her with a wink.

“Big. Cock.”


	2. The Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is not going to go the way you think.

# The Descent

Rey awoke late the next morning, pleasantly surprised to find herself no longer tied to her bed, as she had been when she’d fallen into a near-comatose slumber underneath the sweaty warmth of _him_ , just hours ago.

Every part of her body throbbed from the very thorough working over she’d received over the course of the previous evening. From Ben. The hot delivery guy slash very good roleplay partner slash owner of a huge dick that he knew how to use.

Who also happened to be a member of her online book club.

She remembered being carried to her room in his ridiculously strong arms. She remembered being tossed onto her bed… and she definitely remembered the look on Ben’s face when he snatched up her pantyhose from her bedroom floor and tied her to the bed with them.

And after that… when he proceeded to fuck the living shit out of her.

Had she made him wear a condom, he would have needed every last one of the ones he’d brought.

Rey was pleased to realize, based on the evidence of her being awake and breathing, he was _not_ a serial killer.

Her arms and legs protested her hurried movements to rise from bed and ready herself for work.

She evaluated her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

 _Fuck._ Aside from the circles under her eyes, she had two visible hickeys and giant, Ben-sized fingerprint-shaped bruises all over the place.

Faint marks around her wrists revealed they’d been tied. Dammit. He’d marked her up but good.

It wasn’t entirely his fault. After he’d tied her up, he _had_ asked if it was too tight. And she’d told him to keep going…

She groaned. She was sore... everything from the waist down ached and pulled.

Despite the discomfort, Rey felt amazing. She’d been thoroughly fucked into the early hours of the morning and she’d loved every minute of it.

She felt…deliciously sated. And very tired.

_Coffee. I need so much coffee._

She wondered if Ben was still around or if he’d left for work already.

Ben wasn’t anywhere in the house, nor was there any sign of him but for a few reminders from the previous evening.

He’d made a pot of coffee for her before he left, though, and that alone was enough to make Rey’s heart skip a beat. She poured herself a cup, pleased to note he had used enough grounds to make battery-acid strength brew.

Just the way she liked it. Hot, and strong enough to strip paint off her car.

She took a sip. It was perfect.

_Thank you, Ben._

She wandered into the living room to find her towel from the evening before – which had fallen off when he’d tied her up with his belt – draped neatly over the chair in front of her computer desk. Five unused condoms had been stacked in a little pile on the coffee table. Her _Devil on the Dark Side_ book, which she’d left open and upside down, was now closed, with the windshield wiper receipt Ben had given her the night before sticking out from the edges.

Her vibrator, however, was nowhere to be found.

She didn’t have time to search thoroughly, though, since she was running late for work.

Rey scrambled to get ready for the day vividly recalling everything he’d done to her before and after he’d carried her into her room.

Just thinking about it made her stomach clench with desire… She would never forget a single minute of last night. It just wasn’t possible.

She threw on a cream turtleneck sweater and a pair of slacks. The long sleeves and high collar covered up the marks on her wrists and neck.

 _I’m going to have to revisit my wardrobe if this continues,_ Rey told herself, anticipation whirring through her. _Will he come back? Maybe tonight?_

She was halfway out the door before she remembered she’d locked her keys in the car after work yesterday and had yet to figure out how she was going to get them.

But when she hitched her purse over her shoulder, she heard a telltale jingle.

Shocked, she pulled her keys from her purse and realized Ben must have retrieved them for her and replaced them before he’d left. He must have remembered her mentioning it…when she’d been babbling at him as he’d delivered her package.

_That was nice of him._

She looked to the side table by the door where she’d left the spare key. It was gone.

Rey felt a small pang of uneasiness at the back of her neck.

_Did he put it back? Or did he take it with him?_

She went out to the porch and jumped onto the swing, feeling around her hiding spot on top of the porch light. But her fingers found nothing.

_It’s not there… so… he took it._

_That was a bit presumptuous of him_ , she mused, another twinge of unease whispering up her neck.

But Rey didn’t have time to dwell on it.

She went to work, tired and sore, her mind brimming with absolutely inappropriate thoughts about a certain First Order delivery driver.

She found herself checking her phone and the book club chat throughout the day.

Nothing from Ben or BC_Ren.

It was a very long day.

After work, she came home to an empty house and everything just where she’d left it. Trying and failing to swallow her disappointment, she kicked off her shoes and went online.

Nothing new in the book club, although she left a _very_ positive review over the Rebel. Most everyone made some kind of snarky comment.

BC_Ren did not make an appearance in the group chat that evening.

She went to bed early that night, wondering if Ben would make use of the housekey he’d appropriated. She wasn’t sure she wanted him to.

If he did, it would be totally creepy, wouldn’t it? But if he didn’t…then why did he take it in the first place?

She decided to wear a sexy hot-pink slip to sleep in, just in case. But she passed out early and slept through the night, waking to nothing but disappointment.

And this time she had to make her own damn coffee.

The next day, when she _still_ hadn’t heard from him, she called the delivery company to speak to him or at least get his last name. The person at First Order told her four Bens worked there.

When Rey asked her to list their names and descriptions, the lady on the other end of the line very rudely told her no and hung up.

_So much for a full-service company._

Rey, growing more infuriated by the minute, called a locksmith and had the locks changed by the end of the day.

As the week went on, Rey became increasingly frustrated, then enraged, with the handsome, absent delivery driver.

_No call. No note. Definitely no packages._

Her blood boiled when the realization finally hit her all at once: That motherfucker had ghosted her.

She thought about ordering something overnight express just to force him to show his scheming, sexy face.

But that would just be too obvious.

All week, BC_Ren had been noticeably inactive in the book club, other than making two short and pointed comments to the group at large about not underestimating how far _Kylo Ren_ would go to protect his identity.

Rey understood the threat for what it was. If she outed BC_Ren as an unscrupulous, deranged pervert who had come to her house and basically convinced her naïve ass to reenact all her dirty fantasies with him, who knew what he might do?

He knew where she lived. And even though she’d changed the locks, he _thought_ he had the spare key. He _might_ try to break in.

The idea of him breaking into her house and confronting her gave her a thrill.

She imagined scenarios where he would show up and discover she’d changed the locks, then slam his massive body into the door, desperate to get to her, to get _at_ her, and the wild look in his eyes when he finally succeeded and…

 _You really are a deviant_ , _Rey._

She considered direct messaging him through the book club chat, but, no. Deviant or not, Rey refused to appear desperate. If he was going to be stubborn, so could she. She _invented_ stubborn.

Still, though. It wouldn’t hurt to make her point known.

And Rey was very good at making her point. She was a teacher, after all.

She spent the rest of the evening offering up some very filthy remarks about what she wanted _Kylo Ren_ to do to her. That way if he showed up for Round Two, she could slam the door in his arrogant face.

Yes. Door-slamming would be good. Along with a few choice words about his having exceeded the maximum possible level of assholery. Which was very high.

But her comments only provoked enthusiastic agreement from the other thirsty members of her group.

Still nothing from BC_Ren.

 

By the time he called on Friday night, she was livid.

Of course, at first, she had no idea it was him calling, because the caller ID came through as _Private Number_.

“Hello?” she answered, putting the phone on speaker so she could finish painting her toenails.

“Hello to you,” replied a very familiar voice on the other line.

 _Ben._ _How does he always sound like pure sex?_

He seemed so laid-back. Like he hadn’t fucked her brains out and then left her days ago without a word. Sudden wrath made her head spin.

“Oh, _hey!_ It’s been days! What the hell, you piece of shit?” she yelled into the phone.

“Well, yeah. It’s been a few days. You never called. So, I thought I’d call you, instead.” He sounded remarkably calm.

That was un-fucking-acceptable.

“How the hell am I supposed to call you? I don’t have your number! Fucker!” His composure only enflamed her ire.

“I left you a note. In your book,” he replied lightly.

 _What?_ Rey's head snapped over to her book on the coffee table. Still exactly where he’d left it… _Shit-fuck-dammit_.

She hustled to the table, careful of her wet toenails, and opened the book. Written on the back of the windshield wiper receipt was, indeed, a note in elegant cursive.

_You are amazing. I hope I can see you again. Call me. XXX, Ren_

From the way he’d signed it, Rey couldn’t tell if he’d signed it Ben or Ren.

 _Who still writes in cursive?_ she thought, still irrationally upset with him.

Below his note was a phone number. Her anger deflated a tad.

He chuckled at the long pause. That dark sound slithered right through her and sank into her belly.

“You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you? I’ve been thinking about you, too.”

She sat in stony silence, refusing to answer. He’d been _all_ she could think about. There was no way he was getting that out of her. Not if it killed her.

After a minute she asked waspishly, “How did you get my phone number?”

“I looked at your phone when you were passed out in a sex coma,” he told her. 

_Did he have to sound so fucking casual about it?_

Okay, so maybe he’d left a note, but he’d obviously had her number this whole time. Why had he waited so long to call her? As far as Rey was concerned, that was criminal damage.

He answered her question as if she’d asked it aloud.

“I thought maybe you needed time to recover from that complete _thrashing_ I gave your sweet little pussy.” _That cocky son-of-a-bitch._

He went on silkily, “I figured you were sore and didn’t want to talk to me for a few days... But if you’re not going to appreciate my thoughtfulness…”

_Thoughtfulness? Is he fucking serious?_

“Appreciate your thoughtfulness?” _God. What an arrogant bastard._

He changed the subject, slick as oil. “Did you mean it? What you said in book club?”

_What?_

“When you said you wanted Kylo to dick you down so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk for a week?” He sounded amused, now.

Talons of lust sank into her shoulders at his words. It fucking made her nipples hard.

_Why have I not hung up, yet?_

That had been one of the tamer comments she’d made, actually. Illogical fury bloomed in her chest and she grasped at a reason to justify it.

“Where’s my vibrator?” Rey asked hotly.

She should have been asking about her missing housekey, but, priorities.

“I took it,” he answered smoothly.

“Um. Yeah. I figured that out. Why?” she snapped.

“So you couldn’t use it.”

“UM, _WHY?_ ”

She heard a low chuckle. “Because I wanted you to call me, so I’d have to bring it back. I still have some things to finish up at work, but don’t worry, I’ll bring it over. I’ll be there in a bit. Be ready.”

“Ready for what? I can’t believe you fucking took my shit! And you can’t just come over whenever you want! We’re not that close, asshole!” A pause.

“We were close enough on Monday when I was balls deep in your tight little cunt,” he stated with such nonchalance, Rey’s rage flared into a full-blown tantrum.

“Fuck you!” she bellowed. “You piece of shit cocksucker!”

He laughed again and this time his humor had a bite to it. He said darkly, “You better watch that filthy fucking mouth, sweetheart. Or I’m gonna clean it out for you.”

That line was delivered a touch of menace, and Rey felt actual shivers sweep through her.

But before she could reply he growled, “Be there in a bit.”

Then he disconnected the call.

_What an unmitigated douchebag._

Rey was fuming. And just slightly worried. 

She paced her living room for the next hour, peering through the curtains every five minutes for any sign of him before she realized there was no way he was getting in because she’d changed the locks.

Plus, if she wasn’t there when he showed up, he would leave, right?

At this idea, she ran to her room and threw on shoes and a different sweater. She had to go grocery shopping, anyhow. She was out of ice cream and wine, the most basic necessities of any single girl’s diet.

She had just opened the door to head out, but she was too late, because there he was, walking up the porch steps. He wore jeans and a t-shirt and a leather biker jacket that made his broad shoulders look a mile wide.

Her heart stopped beating at the sight of him.

She’d only ever seen him in his uniform or various stages of undress, so the sight of him in non-work clothes was enough to send serious flutters into her belly.

_Damn. His legs are long._

He stopped on the top step and raised both eyebrows.

“Going somewhere, sweetheart?” Fuck, those eyes could smolder like hot coals from the pit of Hell itself.

“Yeah. I have plans. That don’t involve you.”

He smiled, and the flutters inside her became rolling waves. That fucking dimple in his cheek was back.

“Okay. If that’s what you really want.” He turned and started walking away.

_Well, that was anticlimactic._

“Wh? Wait! Hey!” she yelled after him. “Where’s my spare key?”

He stopped but didn’t fully turn. He just cocked his head partway around, glancing at her over his shoulder.

And…for the briefest flash of a moment, he looked…

…he looked like the Devil himself assessing the value of her soul…right before he came for it.

The look was quickly gone, replaced by something far less mystical. Still, the naked possessiveness on his face was enough to make her weak in the knees.

How could a person make her feel totally disarmed and defensive at the same time?

He strolled up to her, then stepped around to the mailbox hanging next to the front door. He opened the lid and wedged his hand in, pulling out her key.

He tugged her hand into his and closed it around the key, then whirled around as if to leave.

_Oh, shit. So, now I’m the asshole, apparently…_

She pulled the sleeve of his jacket and he stopped, turning back to her.

He asked _what?_ with a lift of his brow.

Rey had no idea what the hell to say.

“I was just going to the grocery store,” Rey admitted, giving ground to the inevitable.

His dark brows winged down into a slight scowl. “Want some company? I’m not sure if my plans for the night are panning out.”

_Lips, eyes, hair, smell. How am I supposed to resist this?_

She thought she was angry at him, but she really didn’t have a reason to be anymore… and those fathomless dark eyes were drawing her in like quicksand.

“Okay. If you really want to go to the grocery store on a Friday night…” She offered him a conciliatory half-smile.

He considered her for a minute, then seized her hand. “Okay. I’m driving, though.”

She was mildly annoyed he’d taken charge until he went on, saying, “Less chance of infection if we take my car. I’ve seen the inside of yours.”

Embarrassment heated her face as she realized it probably _was_ a good idea to take his car. Hers was still full of random crap from moving here, and she never seemed to find time to clear it out because she was procrastinating until she got around to it. Which she would. Eventually.

Before she could ask how he’d gotten into her car to retrieve her keys, however, he was towing her across her front yard in the wake of his impossibly long strides.

He pulled her to a brand-new, super-shiny black SUV that looked like it cost more than a year’s salary – at least a normal, working person's salary for sure.

There was no way a delivery driver could afford something like this. She found herself intensely curious.

It had occurred to her more than once over the preceding days she knew next to nothing about him.

Gracefully, he stepped around to open the passenger door, but before she could get in, he spun to face her.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” he said.

She opened her mouth to ask what he could have forgotten, but he was already wrapping his arms around her and putting his mouth on hers and – _oh! that warm, plush mouth_ – she went boneless. Instantly.

 _Mmmm, his kisses are kryptonite,_ she thought vaguely, as his tongue teased her lips into opening for him. She slid her arms around his neck, and he pulled her up to her tiptoes, leaning over to meet the rest of the way between them…

He set his hot mouth over hers with such deliberate gentleness it sent shivers through her whole body and she couldn’t help a little moan escaping into his mouth.

When he moaned in return, she got so wet her thighs clenched together.

_Holy fucking hell. I am so letting him sleep with me again._

He bent her backward, his arms bracing her and caging her in a position that left her totally reliant on him to keep her from falling to the ground. With a sigh, he kissed her more intently, and she felt his hands roam from her waist to cup around her butt, pressing her belly into him. And she just wanted to melt into him like chocolate sauce.

She threaded her fingers through his hair, cool silk in the evening air. The rest of him was like warm, solid rock.

He kissed her senseless for a good five minutes before pulling away with a “hmmm” that made Rey want to cry.

“Okay, hop in. Let’s go to the store.” He held the door until she was in the passenger’s seat, then closed it and jogged around to the driver’s side with all the enthusiasm of a puppy going on an outing.

Rey was astonished. _How does he do that? Turn from dark stranger who kisses like the Devil incarnate into sweet, eager delivery boy?_

“I really thought you’d see my note.” He said quietly as he steered the car into the street.

That soft admission took any remaining fight right out of her. Not that much was left after the soul-shaking kiss he’d just given her. Her lips were still swollen and tingling…

And then he said with a hint of an edge to his voice, “Although I still have a bone to pick with you.”

“You do?” Her heart started thumping. That couldn’t be good.

“Yep. I think we need to have a discussion about the way you talk to me.” He gave her a piercing stare that made her blood pump and sent adrenaline prickling through her. He looked…kind of threatening. 

She almost asked him what the fuck he was talking about, but she kept her mouth shut.

She knew exactly what the fuck he was talking about. And she was just a little afraid of him right now because once again it occurred to her this person was a virtual stranger, apart from the fact he was intimately familiar with her body. And she’d just willingly hopped into his car. He could take her anywhere.

She watched him nervously out of the corner of her eye as he drove. His large hands on the steering wheel gripped and turned gracefully and efficiently. Those hands she knew could easily overpower her.

But, he did nothing more sinister than stop the car at a red light and ask benignly, “Which store?”

The town was small, but there were three grocery stores to choose from. Rey usually went to the one closest to her house since they had a decent wine section.

She told him so, and he asked, “Do you have a list?”

“A what?”

“Do you have a shopping list? You need to stock up, from the empty fridge I saw Tuesday morning...”

Ah. Great. He’d evidently made himself quite at home while she’d been out cold. Irritation flashed through her, and she wasn't sure why.

“I don’t need a list,” she retorted with mild belligerence.

They got to the store and she hopped out before he could open the door for her. A small act of independence, perhaps. A touch of defiance.

He grinned at her like he knew her exact thoughts. The devil.

They walked into the brightly-lit store and he turned to her. “Where to?”

“Wine. And ice cream.”

“And?”

That was really all she’d planned on getting.

“And… that’s it?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well, what were you going to do for dinner?” He sounded mildly exasperated.

She’d been planning on finishing off the bag of Chex Mix on top of the fridge and stalking BC_Ren on the book club group chat… but there was no fucking way he needed to know about that.

He grunted. “Never mind. I can probably guess, and it’s probably awful, isn’t it? Let’s get you some food. You need to keep up your strength.”

He swept a hot glance over her and she felt a blush climb up her cheeks. “If my plans for the evening end up working out, we can’t have you fainting from low blood sugar…”

He pulled a shopping cart out of the queue by the automatic doors and proceeded into the store without turning back to see if she followed. But she did.

The sight of him pushing a grocery cart through the produce section sent quivers of want running up and down her legs. It was so…domestic. Almost… _familiar._

She hung back and watched him toss some vegetables into the cart, then he turned and said, “How about I cook you some dinner tonight?”

 _Cook? Me dinner? Is he fucking kidding?_ Nobody, not even either of her two shitty ex-boyfriends, had ever offered to cook her anything.

And she didn’t cook. Not really…

“I wonder what your mental voice sounds like. Like how much swearing actually _happens_ in that head of yours?” he said casually, watching her every expression flicker over her face.

Once again, she was struck by the facets of his personality that seemed to clash and merge into one mysterious persona. Dark, mischievous, tempting, sweet, considerate…and just a little bit _predatory_. As if she were his singular focus of attention, and he was trying to be casual about it.

He turned back to the cart and they strolled to the butcher’s counter. “Steak okay?”

“Sure.” _Um. Yeah, it was fucking okay._ Rey couldn’t remember the last time she could afford meat that wasn’t pressed into cubes or a patty.

He gave her the dimple smile again and she had to stop herself from jumping on him.

After a prolonged discussion with the lady behind the butcher’s counter, Ben convinced the woman to cut two ribeye steaks just for them. Before she wrapped them, he looked them over critically, then nodded and said, “Okay.”

Rey rolled her eyes. _The guy is a fricking snob._

“Steak, salad, and wine. That okay for dinner?”

“Yeah.” Her stomach rumbled in agreement.

He leaned over and put his mouth next to her ear. “And what do you want for dessert?”

Rey’s face turned beet red.

He pressed his nose just close enough to her hair she could tell he was … smelling her. His soft inhale and exhale moved the fine hairs on the side of her neck in the most sinful way.

He hovered over her for a few seconds then said, “Never mind. I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

 

They finished shopping and Rey had no problem letting him pay. Anyone who drove a car like his could damn well afford some groceries. Plus, he owed her. She’d had to pay a locksmith because he’d taken her housekey. Although, admittedly it had been in her mailbox the whole time.

Still, though. He had her vibrator, and it hadn’t been cheap.

When she asked him about it on the way back to her place, he just flashed her a wolfish grin.

“You want your toy back, you’re gonna have to earn it, baby,” he uttered slickly as his eyes raked over her. “I seem to recall a certain someone saying in book club she wanted Kylo Ren to fuck her face until he dislocated her jaw... That might be a good start. What do you think?”

 _Really? He’s bringing up book club stuff? Now?_  

Then she realized he'd been reading her comments and just not responding. She did not need to be reminded how she’d spent the whole workweek alternating between fantasies of revenge for him not calling or of forgiveness that resulted in some more very interesting sex…

“God, you’re a cocky sonofabitch,” she spat, crossing her arms over her chest.

“That _mouth_ on you. I already warned you, Rey…” He narrowed his eyes and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, shaking his head in admonition.

_You better watch that filthy fucking mouth, or I’m gonna clean it out for you._

Rey, however, wasn’t done. She’d had enough of his threats.

“Do you really get off on being a total dick? Like, seriously?”

“Yeah, I kinda do get off on it, actually. So do you, so tone down the false righteousness, baby.” He parked the car in front of her house.

“Um, what do you mean ‘so do you’? I don’t need –”

He interrupted. “I know exactly what you need.”

He cut the engine and draped his arm over the back of her seat, turning to look her square in the eyes. She became acutely conscious of the size of him, once again. His arm rested across the headrest, but she could feel his body heat radiating into her.

She could smell the leather of his jacket and the hint of licorice on his breath and his masculine scent that reminded her of sweat and hot sex. She wanted to breathe it in and soak in it until it saturated her.

“I know you better than you think,” he muttered, and his eyes snapped with black fire.

He reached between them, pulling her hand into his.

He moved the pad of his thumb over her palm in the most erotic gesture Rey had ever experienced. His words flowed over her and she couldn’t stop watching his hand caressing hers.

“It’s so obvious, it might as well be tattooed on your forehead. You need someone to remind you of your dark side...”

His huge hand completely encompassed hers, as his thumb moved to stroke over her wrist, sending chills shooting through her like electric sparks.

“…you need someone who can drag you down into the murkiest places of your waking dreams… explore all the delicious shady little corners…tear you down piece by piece and put you back together again…”

He lifted her hand to his mouth and bit mound of flesh at the base of her thumb. She felt his tongue stroke the spot before he moved his mouth to her wrist and nibbled at it.

Lust speared through her like a hot knife through butter.

His tongue slid over her pulse point in a warm, wet stroke that sent her heartbeat into a skip.

“What do you get out of all this?” Rey finally asked after she realized he wasn’t going to say anything else.

A mask of apathy pulled over his face. “Me? I get a very pretty little toy to play with.”

He licked the pulse point at her wrist again, making her squirm in her seat at the incongruity between his words and actions.

“…And I should warn you. I tend to break my things…” She gasped at the stark declaration.

He released her hand to sweep across the edge of her jaw with a curled finger.

She gaped at him.

“You’re lying,” she said flatly. _God! Why is he so confusing?_

He just looked at her, lips slightly parted.

“I shouldn’t have said that…” he whispered. “I’m. So sorry.” He appeared truly apologetic, appalled with himself.

_Who is this person?_

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again, so tenderly and sweetly it was going to kill her. Her whole body trembled.

Rey’s heart was seriously going to beat right out of her chest, but right before it did, he dropped his hand and said simply, “Let’s go make dinner.”

 

They brought the groceries into her house and went into the kitchen in silence. Whatever had just occurred had been too strange and deep and strangely emotional for Rey to speak about, and Ben seemed to understand and let her keep her silence.

She considered he had never actually done anything to hurt her. Just scare her a little. His mood seemed so…mercurial tonight. Earlier in the week, he’d been more playful, less intense.

Yes. That was it. Tonight, everything about him was laced with some kind of intensity she couldn’t quite pinpoint. But she still had no doubts as to his sincerity.

He poked through her cupboards looking for a skillet, then glimpsed the knife block on her counter.

“That’s a really nice knife set, for someone who doesn’t cook,” he commented.

Rey turned from unpacking the last of the groceries, welcoming the neutral topic of conversation after a fairly tumultuous, emotionally-charged evening. “Oh! Yeah. It was a housewarming gift from my neighbor.”

“A gift? Really?” he sounded politely curious, but deliberately so, as if he couldn’t help but ask but really wanted the answer. “Which neighbor?”

 _What a question._ His off-hand tone put her on alert for some reason.

“From Mr. Skywalker next door…”

He murmured something to himself under his breath.

“Huh?” She wasn’t sure what he’d said, but it sounded like _the sandman_ …

His eyes had grown distant. Unearthly almost, as if he was momentarily lost in another time and place, then dragged immediately back to the present.

“I said ‘a kind man’.” He spoke the words with unhurried indifference, then turned to the stove and put the skillet on a burner.

But that wasn’t what he’d said, Rey was almost positive. She held her tongue. Because the minute he’d taken off his leather jacket, she had a hard time concentrating on anything that wasn’t the ripple of muscles under his t-shirt.

She opened the wine and sat on the kitchen counter while he chopped vegetables and fished around for cooking utensils and plates and bowls.

“How do you like your steak?” he asked, and she had to have him repeat his question, she was so distracted at the sight of his large body moving around her kitchen.

“Um. Medium rare?” She said finally.

He hummed in approval. “Americans usually overcook their meat.”

She laughed. She’d been right earlier when she’d thought he was a snob. “ _You’re_ American!”

He grinned back at her and replied, “Not when it comes to steak.”

She took another sip of wine and admired the view of his burly thighs and tight ass in black denim while he turned away and pulled the steaks from the skillet. He covered them and turned around, catching her ogling his butt.

“Ten minutes while those rest,” he muttered, staring at her mouth. “How’s the wine?”

Rey had never been so turned on in her life. She stuck her finger in her wineglass, catching a red drop on the tip and licking it off in a lascivious gesture that made his eyes turn dark.

“It’s good. Want a taste?” _Please say you want a taste…_

Instead of answering, he sauntered up to the counter where she sat, pushing her legs apart so he could stand between them.

He lifted her hand holding her glass and gave her a taste, carefully tipping the glass to her lips and watching intently as she sipped. He moved her hand down to set the glass on the counter.

And then he kissed her so ravenously her entire body shook and shuddered. He pushed his tongue into her mouth with a hungry sigh and, damn, it _melted_ her.

She draped her arms over his shoulders and willingly let him take her in his arms, opening her mouth for him to plunder and explore at his will.

He was very thorough. He didn’t stop until she gasped for breath and arched into him, rubbing her achingly hard nipples against his chest.

Fuck, she wanted him. Tempestuous personality or no. He was the best thing she’d ever tasted.

“That was…delicious,” he whispered into her mouth. His eyes moved over her face and neck, hands roaming up and down her back then around her ribs, so his thumbs could brush the sides of her breasts.

She groaned, and he kissed the side of her neck so passionately she sobbed into his thick, silky hair, “ _Ben_. I want you.”

He sucked her earlobe and nibbled it until liquid desire pulsed at her core.

“Soon enough, sweetheart.” He pushed his nose into her hair and she felt him breathe in her scent and it sent tingles of want up and down her spine.

He kissed her again this time, playfully sucking her bottom lip into his mouth, looking into her eyes with that crinkled squint that made her so wet she thought she might soak through to the countertop, and wouldn’t that be embarrassing…

“Let’s eat.” He smiled into her eyes.

She was so painfully aroused, she was tempted to tell him to skip dinner and eat her instead…but he had already pulled away and started making her a plate.

And she _was_ starving.

She didn’t have a dining table, so they kicked off their shoes and socks and sat on the floor in the living room, using the coffee table as a regular table.

He kept the conversation light and mundane, asking about her job and when she’d moved to town. They speculated on the members of their book club and when the final book in the Dark Side series would be forthcoming.

Watching him eat was a feast for the eyes, she thought. He dined with elegant efficiency, huge hands graceful as he cut his steak and speared bites of salad. She wanted those hands on her again.

Every move he made simmered with undercurrents of sexual tension.

Rey felt she was going to snap and break from it.

“How are you so good at it? Pretending to be Kylo Ren?” she asked, wondering about the other night. His eyes roamed over her face and chest, bringing heat to her blood with just a glance.

“Because. Maybe, I’m a creature of darkness and I know what it feels like to… To need… for someone to see the true person underneath the façade of this world. I _know_ …” he stated, then paused as if he’d revealed too much. His voice had taken on a hypnotic cadence, and he moved back from the table, shifting until he was kneeling.

He peeled off his shirt and Rey’s breath caught in her chest at the sight of his beautifully carved arms and shoulders, the way his collarbone curved above the slabs of his heavily-muscled pecs, the tempting line of hair that started at his navel, trailing down his flat stomach and disappearing into his jeans.

_Fuck. I will never get enough of looking at him._

He crawled around the table to her and she leaned back, bracing her arms on the floor, so he could hover over her.

She couldn’t speak, but he kept talking in that low, hypnotic tone.

“You live this safe little life in a safe little town, and there is no end in sight to the deadly tedium of this waking dream you’ve been locked in. You know you were meant for more…” His words rang so true, she felt tears prickle the backs of her eyes.

He straddled her legs and reached for the hem of her sweater, sliding it up with hot hands until he’d peeled it off her.

“And you’re lying to yourself if you can’t admit you’ve been bored out of your fucking mind. You live on this lonely little island, all to yourself… I can fucking _see_ it.”

Her breathing slowed as he bowed over her, capturing her gaze with his as he went on.

“You’ve been waiting for me to come along and wake you up… remind you you’re still alive, not dead inside…”

She shivered as he held her gaze in his. It frightened her how right he was… how well he _knew_ …

“Don’t be afraid. I feel it, too,” he murmured right before he leaned in and caught her mouth with his.

And her reality exploded into a white-hot blaze of lust.

He kissed her voraciously, _consuming_ her, emptying her mind of everything but him.

His teeth and tongue hungrily claimed her with such rapacious onslaught she fell back to the floor.

He caught her in his hands and settled over her with a groan.

The passionate sound vibrated through her and made her toes curl at the hard, hot pressure of him bearing down on her.

“I’m going to show you,” he declared, sweeping his tongue over her jaw and down her neck in a line of fire that tore a ragged whimper from her throat.

“Yes,” she agreed. “Show me…”

He slid his hands around to clutch at either side of her head, threading his fingers through her hair, holding her in place so he could lick and suck her neck and ear.

His five o’clock shadow scraped along her sensitive skin, drawing forth a feverish gasp. She wanted more. She _wanted_ him to mark her, claim her.

She slid her hands over the carved contours of his chest and around his back, pulling her nails across his smooth, hot skin until he growled and kissed her again, ravenously invading her mouth until she couldn’t breathe. Until all she could breathe was him.

She lifted her hips to grind into his, eagerly, wanting to merge and blend with him until she didn’t recognize herself.

He smiled at her then, a feral, primal thing, and ground his hips into hers until her pussy clenched, a prelude to the rippling spasms of orgasm. It made her head spin.

He lifted himself away from her and she cried out in distress, not wanting him to stop. But he only stood, yanking her up to stand in front of him, stripping her bra from her so deftly her nipples puckered in the cool air of the room.

Then he lifted her into him, wrapping her legs around his waist so he could carry her to bed.

The contact of her naked chest with his was pure heaven, and she clung to him desperately, kissing and licking his chest and collarbone until his arms trembled around her and he bit out a muffled curse.

His long legs carried her through the house to her room remarkably quickly.

Nevertheless, they were both breathing heavily by the time they got there.

He tossed her onto the bed as if she weighed nothing.

“Take those off,” he demanded, nodding at her jeans, as he undid his. He turned and switched on the lamp at her bedside table.

She swallowed, understanding he wanted to see her… See everything…

She fumbled at the button and zipper of her jeans with shaking hands, and he covered her hands with his, helping her slide them over her hips and down her legs.

His eyes turned black at the sight of her naked, and he bit his bottom lip, considering her for a moment…

“Spread those pretty thighs for me, baby,” he finally instructed.

She felt a momentary shyness overcome her. It was one thing to let him take whatever he wanted. It was another to voluntarily meet him halfway, to expose herself to him while he just stood there…

It made her feel so vulnerable, and she knew by the look on his face, he was doing this on purpose.

Slowly, she opened her legs, watching his expression turn from hungry to avaricious.

“More,” he commanded relentlessly.

Blushing furiously, she bent her knees up until he muttered, “Good… Now don’t move.”

He peeled off his jeans, then his boxer-briefs, and she eyed his every move with eager anticipation.

At the sight of his flushed, swollen erection, her mouth went dry. _Oh, damn, he is huge._

She felt a surge of wetness between her legs, and in her current position, she was sure he could see it…

The carnal twist of his lips sent a jolt through her. “You should see yourself right now,” he stated with a shake of his head. “Quite a sight.”

He didn’t move, just raked her with a hot stare.

“Ben,” she whimpered. “Please, won’t you…?”

He chuckled. “Not just yet. I want to savor this for a minute… Make you wait… You deserve a little bit of punishment, don’t you think? For all those mean things you said to me?”

He wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking the dripping head with his thumb, before giving it a few lewd pumps of his fist. The devilish grin on his face told her everything she needed to know.

Punishment?

Oh, hell no. He was _not_ fucking toying with her… Not when she was in bad shape like this.

She lowered her legs just a fraction. Two could play this game.

She wanted him. And she was not going to beg for it. Before her better judgement kicked in, she did the most provoking thing she could think of.

She glared at him and hissed furiously, “If Kylo Ren were here right now, he’d be a real man and _fuck me._ ”

She pushed a finger into the hot slickness between her legs, coating it in her own wetness, then dragged it up, stopping at a nipple to tweak it until it pebbled, then further, all the way to her mouth.

Satisfaction curled through her when his mouth gaped open, his eyes glued to her finger.

She pushed it between her lips and sucked on it, giving him the hottest stare in her arsenal.

Fear pulsed through her as she watched his face change from smug arousal to fiery longing, as he donned the persona of Kylo Ren so completely it stunned her. His lips curled back over his teeth, and he muttered, “Fucking bitch!” And he jumped on her.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he snarled, as he settled himself into the cradle of her parted legs. “You’re going to finish me off before we even get started…”

He gripped her hair in one hand and brushed his thumb against her lips, then crudely pushed it into her mouth.

“Suck,” he ordered. She could taste him, the moisture he’d drawn forth from his arousal, and she wrapped her tongue around his thumb and sucked hard, making him shudder.

He pulled out his thumb, smearing it across her cheek with a soft hum.

“You shouldn’t tempt the Devil, baby, unless you wanna catch a little hell,” he swore through gritted teeth, and Rey felt immediate regret and anticipation seize her simultaneously, as she realized her ploy to provoke him had both completely backfired and worked perfectly.

He kissed and licked a hot path from her neck to her breast, pulling the aching peak into his mouth until she arched into him and sobbed and thrashed.

He moved down, kissing and licking at her ribs, then belly, then hips, trailing wildfire in the wake of his plush, heated lips.

When he finally got to the dripping apex of her thighs, she just…unraveled.

His hands roughly spread her legs and he swept his tongue broadly along the slick folds of her sex until she keened and shivered under him.

She clutched at his hair and rocked her hips into his face, lost in the exquisite pleasure of his heated mouth on her.

He lapped and licked and sucked until she could feel herself almost falling apart, _sooo_ close to coming undone. But, he held her there at the edge of the abyss, not allowing her to fall... and she realized he would decide when she’d get to… _or if._

And some part of her comprehended she’d be begging him after all, despite her earlier resolution.

She didn’t care. She started begging, and he ignored her. He just pinned her legs down harder and swept his tongue over her until she _hurt_ with the need for more.

She apologized for every unkind name she’d called him, and he categorically disregarded it… the beast.

He was tearing her down, ripping away the boundaries of herself until nothing remained but the most primitive parts of her. The need to be devoured and taken. _Used,_ even.

He blew lightly over her sensitive flesh, and she _ached_ for want of contact... for something, friction, anything to relieve the pressure.

He wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked so gently she knew she was going to die. Rey squirmed and whispered, “Please don’t stop! _Please!_ ”

She would have handed him her soul on a silver platter if he asked it of her in that very moment. If only he would just let her... but he stopped again.

“Ben. _Pleeease!_ ” she screamed. “I’m fucking dying!”

Finally, he lifted his face and he crawled up to hover over her, a demonic gleam in his eyes.

“You poor thing,” he crooned into her neck, before scraping his teeth along her pulse. “You _are_ in hell, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Please, just –!” she couldn’t articulate herself, but she needed release. She wrapped her legs around him and arched her hips, desperately trying to draw him into her.

“I know.” With that ominous assurance, he pushed her knees apart and slid his thick arousal into her, all the way to the hilt.

It felt so good, she shrieked and clawed at his back, and he thrust into her again, forcing another tormented scream from her throat.

And, fuck, if that wasn’t exactly what she wanted. _Needed._

He kept going, punctuating each push with a savage grunt, until the sweat from their bodies mingled between them and Rey found herself once again agonizingly close to an orgasm.

“Please don’t stop, please don’t stop,” she chanted desperately, clinging to him with all the strength she had.

“I’m going to get so far under your skin… you’ll never be rid of me,” he said with such wicked promise, she shivered around him. “Is that what you want?”

“Fuck yes!” she yelled right in his face, and his eyes lit with an unholy light at her ready agreement.

“You’ll never be rid of me,” he repeated as he pinned her hands down and slid into her until he hit her depth with pitiless force.

“You want me there? Nice and deep?” he asked, flexing his hips into her relentlessly.

_“Fuck yes!”_

He grunted and bowed his head to suck on a nipple, until she could only gasp and scream wordlessly.

“Are you gonna come, finally?” he asked, and he moved his hands to her hips, holding her in place to receive his punishingly fierce thrusts.

“Fuck yes! Oh! _Yes!_ ” she screamed as pleasure swept through her like a tidal wave, forcing her to clench around him in powerful, wild spasms.

“Oh, yeah! You’re coming so fucking hard!” he groaned into her neck. “Yes, _fuck_ …”

And with a vicious twist of his hips and a wild snarl, he threw them both into the dark abyss of endless, mindless oblivion.

 

They fell into a sweaty tangle, gasping for breath, shuddering as they came down together. His head bent into the crook of her neck, damp hair tickling her as he nuzzled her and hummed softly into her skin.

They could have remained like that for minutes or hours; Rey had lost all sense of time and place in the blissful aftermath.

The knock on her door broke her reverie, and she moved away from his warm embrace to answer it. She slipped on her robe and watched him pull his jeans on, as if he meant to follow her to the door.

“Ben. It’s fine. Wha-?”

But Ben didn’t look like Ben anymore. Once again, he looked like he had the other night when he’d been playing Kylo Ren, and earlier, after she’d taunted him. Sinister, and just a touch insane…

“It’s Luke.” He said it with quiet certainty. “Dammit, Sandman, I just needed more time…”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, confused and growing more frightened by the second.

Why did he keep saying _Sandman_? And how did he know it was Luke?

The knock sounded again, louder and more insistently this time.

“Walk to the door,” he said coldly. He pushed her along until they stood just in front of the door.

He sounded ruthless and brutal.

Ben wrapped an arm around her waist and another around her mouth, holding her from behind.

Rey trembled in his arms only this time from fear.

“Answer it. Get rid of him. _Do it._ ” His hand gripped her face and he squeezed hard enough to push the flesh of her cheeks into her teeth, but not hard enough to really hurt. He lifted his hand away, expecting her to obey.

“You won’t hurt me. I could just scream for help,” she threatened shakily.

He whispered in her ear from behind, “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart. I won’t hurt _you_ , but that doesn’t apply to _him._ Be careful.”

He cupped his hand around her mouth and forced her jaw around until her face aligned with his as he craned his neck around to meet her eyes.

“Make him go away. _Or I will_. And I guarantee you won’t like my way.” His threat was implicit.

He would hurt Mr. Skywalker, her nice, old hippie of a neighbor.

Rey shivered and answered the door.

“Hey, Luke,” she said in her best casual voice.

“Oh! Hi Rey! Sorry to bother you, I was just wondering if everything was okay? I uh, heard screaming, and I wanted to check…” Luke drifted off, noticing her in her bathrobe.

“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine… I was just watching TV really loud. Friday night, scary movie night, you know?” She tried to grin at him, but Ben’s hand tightened on her wrist from behind the door and she winced instead.

“Anyhow, all done now, and I was going to head to bed…” she hinted, hoping he would leave.

Ben’s presence next to her radiated pure, unadulterated malevolence.

“Right! Okay, sorry to bother you… Uh, have a good night!” Luke smiled and walked away, and Rey shut the door, whirling on Ben and shoving him hard in the chest before stepping back into the living room.

He didn’t budge an inch, just watched her predatorily as she continued backing away from him.

“God, that was horrendous acting, sweetheart. He definitely knows something’s up. He’ll be back soon, and probably with reinforcements…” Ben murmured, and his eyes glowed – no _blazed_ – with such malice she almost dropped to her knees.

_What?_

“I’ll have to take you with me. There’s no other way…” He was muttering to himself, and Rey began to feel sick.

_Take me with him? I don’t fucking think so!_

“After that bullshit stunt you just pulled, I’m not going anywhere with you!” Rey shouted with forced bravado. But Ben hardly appeared to be listening.

“It’s time to let old things die. It’s time to rewrite the story. Kill the past. And you’re going to help me,” he assured her.

The fuck she was. He sounded like a crazy person.

“I’m not helping you with anything!” Rey shrieked at him.

She was freaking out. And he stood between her and the door. There was no way she could muscle her way past him. And if she ran for the back door, he’d catch her for sure.

“Oh, yes. You are. You _have_ to. If you don’t help me…” he paused, suddenly vulnerable. He pled with such naked appeal, Rey flinched. “I can’t take it anymore. Do you understand? I’m trapped. I’ve been trapped here, reliving this fucking hell over and over and over again. I… want to be free of this pain.”

 _This is crazy talk. He’s a psychopath._ She was trying to stay calm. _Keep him talking._  

“Even if I wanted to help you…how can I – what can I even do? I’m just a first-grade teacher!” She argued, glancing at a steak knife, still on her coffee table from dinner. If she could just get to it, somehow…

He shook his head in denial. He ran his hands through his hair, visibly frustrated. “You have no idea who and what you are, do you? You’re telling me you live next door to _Luke fucking Skywalker_ and you don’t know?” He looked so sane - like he was talking about something completely normal. But his words made no sense whatsoever.

He sounded genuinely incredulous she had no idea what he meant.

_Oh, fuck, Rey. You are going to have to fight off this giant, crazed man._

“What…what did you mean ‘who and what you are’ – What do you think I am, exactly?”

His chest rose and fell on a heavy breath.

“You’re. _Mine._ ” He said it with such passionate entreaty, Rey felt the house vibrate.

Fear skittered through her.

_That wasn’t real. That’s adrenaline, Rey._

“What the hell does Mr. Skywalker have to do with anything?” Rey’s voice shook, and she hated herself for it.

“Everything!” The inhuman voice that came out of him rattled the floorboards.

_That was not real. Calm down, Rey._

“Stop it!” she cried angrily, tears streaming down her face. “You’re scaring me!”

“Don't be a fool, Rey! The clues have been staring you in the face this whole time. You should be angry with _Luke. He's_ the one who's kept you in the dark and totally defenseless!”

His words made no sense, but he sounded so sure of himself.

He stepped forward and Rey retreated a step. “Defenseless against what?” she asked.

“You're telling me it wasn't just a bit _suspicious_ that I came over so… well-prepared the other night? I didn't even have to try that hard. A receipt for windshield wipers? Come on! That you let me, a total stranger, into your house on the flimsiest of pretenses... and do those things to you after having spoken a grand total of maybe a few dozen words between us?”

Fuck. He was right, she’d let him right in.

_Stupid, Rey! So blind. This guy’s a psycho._

"Rey. I told you. You shouldn’t just let any stranger into your house. You have no idea if he’s a good guy... or a really bad guy...”

"I just let you right in..." she murmured, shaking her head at her own stupidity.

“It’s because _I know you_. I know your fantasies and your darkest desires… _It’s me._ Who wrote your favorite books? – _The Devil on the Dark Side, it’s all me._ ”

“You… wrote the _Dark Side_ series?” This was beyond insanity. It was ludicrous.

“I fed your waking dreams until you called me by name… and I finally found you…” He stopped.

“Called you by name?”

“In book club. You said you wished Kylo Ren would find you… and…”

Rey remembered. “You think you are Kylo Ren?” she asked quietly. She glanced at the knife on the table again.

“No. I _am_ him.” He stared at her for a long minute. “I move between the realm of the living and those who sleep… I am… not of this world. And neither are you. And it is time for you to _REMEMBER_. _We’ve met before._ ”

“So, so what? You, you’re a stalker?” _Be ready. Grab the knife when he’s distracted._

His answer sent icy chills down her spine as he bit out the words with absolute, forbidding conviction. “I am… so much more than that.”

He took another step, but Rey had frozen, paralyzed in dread. His voice became thunderous, low-voiced, and dangerous.

_“I am the Butcher and the Beast…the Creature under your bed haunting your nightmares…”_

He stepped forward again and the objects on her coffee table and desk began to rattle as if from an earthquake.

_“I am the Thing that goes bump in the night, clawing at the edges of your mind from the realms of darkness… Do not mistake this benign mortal guise for what I truly am.”_

His eyes glowed with preternatural fervor.

“So, what? You’re like, the Bogeyman?”

His lip curled up in satisfaction and he hissed, _“Yes!”_

All the lights in the room flickered simultaneously and the air sizzled with supernatural energy.

A dizzying wave of sick dread pounded through her. She was going to faint.

He lifted a hand and the deadbolt clicked into place from across the room.

_This isn’t real._

_That wasn’t. Real._

“You’re a monster,” she whispered, shaking her head in denial.

“Yes, I am.” He agreed, again in that inhuman voice.

Stone-cold terror sank into her.

“The Sandman finally made a mistake… He's kept you sleeping, unaware. But, I have one of the Texts, and I know what he’s doing… _Sleeping Beauty_ …only I got here before you prick your finger."

_This is insane. He’s insane._

"A thousand, thousand times, this story has been told. And a thousand, thousand times you’ve been tempted… and I’ve come _sooo_ close… but you _always_ run, and he _always_ hides you. You can’t hide from me this time…”

“What are you saying? You tricked me! Are you going to kill me?”

“No! _No!_ This world, it isn’t real! Not to us! You’re still… _holding on!_ ” he boomed, and his voice struck like a thunderclap, as he swept his hand around in a wild arc. “Let go! Let go and _SEE! Really_ _look_ … Touch the spindle.” 

_There is no spindle in this room._

He nodded at the knife on the coffee table.

Rey looked at it and understood. _He wants me to pick it up._ And then a voice in her head that was not her own said, _“Touch it. And you will see.”_

Against all common sense, she moved to pick up the knife, slowly, entranced.

_This is a dream. It’s just a dream. It has to be..._

She wrapped her hand around the handle of the knife and it was almost too hot to touch.

And before she could stop herself she raised it before her and pierced her finger with the tip of the blade.

The walls of the room warped and contracted in a single pulse, and Rey’s mind went blank and clear, as an echo from inside her mind – like the loud, piercing gong of a bell – struck and vibrated and resounded through every fiber of her being.

She dropped the blade instantly and regarded him in horror.

For a split second, she saw an aura around him, red and raw and crackling with dark energy. As if another dimension, another universe, was temporarily layered over her reality.

He was… a beast. She could _see_ it.

“A monster…” she whispered.

_What is happening to me?_

He took three more steps toward her and took her hand in his, hungrily contemplating the drop of red that risen on her finger.

Before she could stop him, he raised her hand to his mouth, that beautiful luscious mouth, and sucked the drop of blood away, rolling it over his tongue as if savoring a fine vintage.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you… I’m _The_ Monster. And I’ve been looking for you. _Everywhere_. For a very, _very_ long time.”

Their eyes locked, hers wide and terrified, his glinting with unholy, unearthly power.

The room began to fade and swirl away, and just before he caught up her limp form in his arms, she heard him whisper, “I’ll find you in your dreams. I’ll come for you, sweetheart. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I warned you, didn't I?


	3. Little Red Raincoat and the Very Big, Bad Ben

# Little Red Raincoat and the Very Big, Bad Ben

 

Kylo Ren watched her eyes flutter closed and knew he had just minutes before Luke returned.

He knew Luke had gone into hiding and had not entered the dream realm for ages and ages. Luke had formidable power, and it would not do to linger here, Kylo knew.

He had been counting on Luke’s continuation of his self-inflicted hermithood. Especially after Kylo finally figured out where _she_ was and how to get to her.

He carefully carried her to her room and tucked her into bed. His earlier plan to take her with him had been rash – he never should have said the words aloud, and he raged at himself for being so impulsive.

It had frightened her, and he’d wanted her to cooperate. To a point, he amended.

_I like her spirit._

_Her fight._

If he’d had more time, he might have convinced her to participate in his scheme more willingly. As it was, getting her into the dream world was his best chance at furthering his plans, for now. At least Luke would not be able to access her there…

Kylo lifted a hand and the knife she’d used earlier appeared. He contemplated it for a moment, impressed that Skywalker had done such an excellent job at concealing the object’s true nature.

But even Skywalker’s charms would wear off after a while…as Kylo Ren well knew.

The knife glowed in Kylo’s hand, but he did not fear the heat from the blade. He did not fear mortal injury in this realm.

Magical injury…well, that was something else. But he was not in danger from that, now. The Sandman couldn’t get to him. Not where he was going.

He watched _her_ sleep for a moment before running the blade’s edge over the pad of his thumb. A line of red appeared, and he ignored the sting of pain.

Thoughtfully, almost trancelike, he leaned over the woman who was the sole focus of his concentration – the one who had fully consumed his attention for so long, he almost couldn’t remember a time before her – and painted his dripping blood over her lips in an obscenely beautiful stripe of red.

He admired it for just a moment.

Then he pushed his thumb into her mouth and whispered, _“Suck.”_

In sleep, her mouth closed around him and he felt the warm, delicious pull of her obedient lips and tongue.

A dark smile crept over his face as she murmured something unintelligible…right before he slipped into her dreams…

 

**Several days later…**

When Rey woke up early Monday morning, she had a throbbing headache and a sense of utter disorientation.

She glanced at her phone on the nightstand to check the time and her heart began to thump in panic.

_That can’t be right._

_It can’t be._

_I’ve been asleep for the entire weekend?_

_No._

Eyes blurred, she looked at her phone more closely.

It really was Monday morning. _Shit!_

She’d slept through an entire fucking weekend.

And she couldn’t remember a damn thing.

And she really, really had to pee.

She scrambled out of bed and ran to the bathroom on shaking legs, her full bladder warring with her complete and total confusion.

_Wait._

Something _had_ happened. Hadn’t it?

Ben. The hot delivery dude. He’d… _been_ there. Friday night.

Hadn’t he?

She hurried to pee then bolted out of her bathroom.

Nothing.

Not a sign of him.

Her book, _Devil on the Dark Side_ , lay face-down on the coffee table, sprawled upside down at page 97. Right where she’d left off last week.

Whirling around, she looked for their dishes from dinner, the yellow windshield wiper receipt.

Five condoms in a neat little pile? Nothing.

She ran to the fridge.

No leftover vegetables. No dirty dishes, except for an ice-cream-stained spoon and an empty wine glass in the sink.

The knife!

She turned to her knife set on the kitchen counter. Everything was in place. _No_. She was missing a steak knife. That was fucking weird.

Her heart started pounding. _Touch the spindle._

He’d said that. Hadn’t he? He’d scared the shit out of her. He’d threatened to hurt Mr. Skywalker…and then revealed himself to be a monster.

She’d _seen_ it. After…

She stared at her finger. The one she’d pricked with the knife.

It was unblemished.

But he’d _been_ there. She was positive… It had felt so _real_.

 _The spare key._ He’d pulled it from the mailbox Friday night, and she’d slipped it into the pocket of her jeans before he’d kissed her. Then they’d gone to the store.

She ran back to her room and snatched up her jeans from the floor, digging frantically through the pockets.

Nothing.

She ran out the front door, not caring if she was wearing only her robe, and shoved her hand into the mailbox.

No key in the mailbox. She hopped onto the porch swing and groped the top of the porch light.

Nothing.

A glint of something on her porch caught her eye. Her key was wedged between two planks, next to the doormat. It would have been nearly invisible except from her perch on the porch swing.

She hopped down and picked up the key, bemused, then wandered back into the house.

All evidence Ben had visited her…was gone.

As if it never happened.

Rey ran into her room, searching for any clue he’d been there.

Her vibrator lay on the bed, but that hadn’t been where she’d left it. _No_. He’d taken it a week ago.

Hadn’t he come over on Monday and…And then again on Friday…?

No vibrator was good enough to put her into a trance and imagine an entire scenario with a perfect stranger. Twice.

He’d called her Friday night, after a horrible week…

She grabbed her phone, looking at the call history.

Nothing except for two missed calls over a week ago.

BC_Ren…he’d been _real_ , hadn’t he?

She ran to her computer and logged into her online book club. She would send him a message.

Except she couldn’t.

BC_Ren did not exist.

In an ever-increasing panic, she scrolled through the group’s chats, which she’d missed all weekend.

No BC_Ren.

She scrolled back further. Nothing. No threats about what Kylo Ren might do to protect his identity…nothing.

She scrolled back even further, looking for BC_Ren’s comments after she’d announced she was going to break in her vibrator…and she found more nothing.

She was sure she was going crazy. It had been so real… _Hadn’t it?_

 

By the time she dashed out the door for work, she was terribly late and in a state of bewildered shock.

She could only conclude she’d imagined everything about Ben or BC_Ren or the Devil or whoever he was. It must have all been a dream.

Mr. Skywalker was on his front porch when she ran to her car. She wondered how to ask him if he’d stopped by her house Friday night. To check on her after hearing screaming.

 _The Sandman_ , Ben had called him on Friday. Hadn’t he?

“Hey, Luke!”

“Hi, neighbor,” Luke replied to her greeting with a congenial grin. “Looks like rain today. Hope you’re prepared!”

Luke Skywalker was older, with salty-gray hair and a thick beard. His twinkling blue eyes were always friendly and engaging. Rey thought he was the nicest person she’d ever met.

She glanced distractedly at the gray clouds overhead. Shit. Her raincoat was still at school and her umbrella was in the house. She didn’t have time to go back in and hunt it down.

“Yeah, um. Can I ask you something?” Rey looked at him closely. He didn’t look remotely like a person who might – what had Ben said? – keep her in the dark? No, leave her defenseless, that was it.

“Sure, kiddo,” he said, slapping a newspaper against his thigh. “What’s up?”

“Did. Um. This is going to sound weird.” Rey paused. “Did you stop by on Friday night to check on me after you heard screaming?”

She blushed furiously. She was pretty sure any screaming noises he might have heard would have fallen more on the scale of passionate sex and sounded less like something that might come from scary movies…

“Yeah,” Luke blinked at her, then frowned. “You said you were having a scary movie night. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Rey mumbled. “Um. Did you come back over? After that?”

Luke looked at her for a long minute then shook his head. “Should I have?” he asked, finally.

Unease trickled icily down the back of her neck.

_Careful, Rey. He’s going to think you’re losing it._

“No.” Rey shook her head. “I guess I fell asleep and…lost track of time.”

“Well, you must have been tired!” Luke raised his eyebrows, with an odd twinkle in his eyes. “Oh! That reminds me! I changed my wi-fi password.”

He winked at her.

Rey’s blush returned with a vengeance.

She’d been stealing his wi-fi ever since she’d moved in… She’d hoped he wouldn’t notice. But his password had been his last name, and really, how did he expect people not to figure that out? That was practically inviting people to steal it, as far as she’d been concerned.

Still. Getting caught was pretty awkward. Especially after asking him about the screaming on Friday night.

“Oh. Oh! Wow…” she stuttered with embarrassment.

Luke laughed. “Hey! It’s cool! I don’t really go online a whole lot. It’s no big deal!”

Rey looked at him sheepishly. “So, what’s the new password?”

Luke chuckled and shook his head.

“Sandman,” he replied with a lift of his brows.

He turned and walked into his house, leaving Rey gaping at his closed front door.

 

Rey had a typical chaotic Monday at school, made worse by the fact she was late and wearing a borderline inappropriate outfit. She’d been in such a hurry that morning, she’d grabbed the first thing her hand touched, which happened to be a short-sleeved, white-cotton summer dress that barely hit the top of her knees.

The cleavage was just a touch low, and Rey hadn’t put on pantyhose, just some knee-high boots to cover most of her bare legs. She had grabbed a sweater, too, but it itched her bare arms, so she left it off, draped over the chair of her desk in her classroom.

It wasn’t until halfway through the morning before she remembered belatedly she’d volunteered weeks ago to help with the Autumn Bake Sale that evening.

In a small town, a Bake Sale was a community event. Which normally wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.

But Rey really had a lot on her mind today and didn’t feel like socializing. And Rey knew she would be expected to smile and fawn and discuss all the wonders of the community’s first-grade population ad nauseum all night. 

Once again, she chastised herself for volunteering under her own self-imposed expectations. As the newest teacher, she’d felt obligated to make friends with the other teachers.

She lived in a small town, now, and she needed to make a good first impression. Politics in places like this could be worse than the goddamn Senate, with the mom-sters in particular. Betsy-Jean’s being the worst of the worst.

Rey glanced at the clock on the wall as chaos surrounded her. It was story time. Barely eleven.

Lunch in half an hour.

Way too early to be fantasizing about a glass of wine…

By the time school got out, Rey wanted to cry.

Principal Holdo had chewed her out for being late and eyed her outfit with obvious disapproval the whole time.

It had taken all of Rey’s willpower not to shriek at the purple-haired woman that she’d had a fucking weird weekend and wasn’t sure if her hot online fuck-buddy-delivery-boy dude was not actually the literal Devil. Who had tied her up and fucked her silly before he’d abandoned her, only to return a few days later and fuck her again…then scared the crap out of her and magically made her pass out for almost three days…

Holdo hinted strongly Rey would be expected to help set up for the Bake Sale after school, and Rey again regretted her wardrobe choice as she perched on a ladder to hang a banner on one side of the gym.

The flare of her skirt would allow anyone in a five-foot radius to see right up her dress if they were so inclined to look.

She’d left off her sweater for the setting up, knowing it would just make her sweaty and uncomfortable as she climbed up and down the ladder and moved it around the gym to hang streamers and balloons from the walls.

By the time she was finished helping with setup, Rey barely had time to run back to her classroom and scarf down the emergency Cup-O'-Noodles she kept stashed in her desk.

 

As expected, the Bake Sale was a total shit show.

Rey immediately regretted everything about her life the second she walked into the gym filled with tables and screaming elementary schoolers and weary parents...and _damn_ tonight was going to suck.

_I just want to go home and have a glass of wine. Why is that so hard?_

And she was stuck at the same table as Holdo. Who was currently on Rey’s very short list of people she actively hated right now. And the only other person on that list seemingly did not even exist, so. Yeah.

Rey pulled up a folding chair next to Holdo and huffed grumpily.

_Suck it up, Rey. This is not the worst thing you’ve ever had to do._

But after an hour and a half of bake-selling, Rey was ready to re-evaluate her previous thought.

This was, very possibly, the worst thing she’d ever had to do.

It was after seven-thirty and the Bake Sale was scheduled to go until nine.

Betsy-Jean’s mom was buying a baggie of cookies and a chocolate cream pie from their table.

“Miss Rey, Betsy-Jean mentioned she told you what I said the other day…about not being married,” the woman smiled at her and Rey could feel the lack of sincerity. “I do hope you forgive me if you took any of it personally. I think it’s _wonderful_ you are such an independent young woman. There’s nothing wrong with being single.”

The woman’s wedding ring flashed brightly on her slightly plump finger as she handed some cash to Rey.

For some reason, it only highlighted to Rey how she had spent parts of the last week in some kind of partially-delusional sex fantasy. That she’d invented out of thin air.

Rey plastered a fake smile onto her face and wondered if Betsy-Jean’s mom knew she had lipstick on her teeth. She tried to ignore the sugary-sweet, condescending kindness of Betsy-Jean’s mother while still taking the pasty bitch’s money.

Then she spotted Mr. Skywalker moving in the direction of her table.

“Hey, neighbor!” Luke greeted her. “Amilyn! How are you?”

Holdo gave him a friendly smile and they chatted for a few minutes while Rey waited for another parent at their table to decide if he wanted the gluten-free brownies or the bran-cookies.

 _It's not a life-or-death decision_ , Rey thought impatiently.

“Rey?” Luke pulled her attention. “I was just asking Amilyn if she could spare you to do me a favor. I hope that’s okay?”

 _Anything to escape this living hell,_ Rey told herself as she smiled at him sweetly. “Sure! What do you need?”

“I was hoping you could drop some baked goods off at my sister’s house. Leia Organa? She runs the homeless shelter in town, and I always like to make sure she gets plenty of goodies from the Bake Sale. For the shelter.”

_Yes. Yes. Whatever gets me out of here._

Rey looked at Holdo. “Is that okay?”

Holdo nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes, and if you see Leia, tell her I said hi!”

 _I’m not your goddamn messenger, Holdo,_ Rey thought scathingly. _Not after the ass-chewing you gave me earlier._

“Sure thing, Ms. Holdo,” Rey said demurely before turning to Luke. “Um?”

Luke gestured to the box of cookies and treats he’d purchased. “Great! This is it! Oh, and Rey?” he asked as she stood quickly and hefted the box in her arms. “It’s pouring down rain outside. You will definitely want your raincoat.”

“Right!” Rey replied, eager to get out before Holdo changed her mind.

“Leia’s address is on the box,” Luke said. “Thanks again, Rey!”

Rey dashed to her classroom, grabbed her raincoat, and hauled ass out of the school. She was not about to question her good fortune in being granted an early escape.

It was indeed pouring down rain, and she almost slipped in the dark patch of sidewalk between the school and the parking lot.

She grumbled to herself about the idiots who made the teachers park so far away, and by the time she reached her car, she’d worked herself into a bit of a temper again.

But. At least she didn’t have to go back to the Bake Sale.

_One last errand. Then a glass of wine and a hot shower._

Rey found Leia’s house fairly quickly. It looked more like a mansion than a house, looming at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac, and Rey wondered briefly why Luke couldn’t have brought the baked goods there himself.

She was a little nervous, she realized.

She hefted the box into her arms and approached the well-lit front door with a bit of trepidation.

She rang the bell and waited. Nobody answered, and Rey wondered what she should do. She didn’t want to leave the cookies and treats on the porch where the neighborhood animals might find them.

_Is anyone even home?_

She tried the bell again, but nobody came.

She sighed. Then she heard a distinctive crash from inside.

Someone was definitely home.

Possibly injured by the sound of it.

Rey tried the door but found it locked.

Making a hasty decision, she hurried around to the back of the house, trying to remember everything she’d learned in her First Aid course in college.

The back door was unlocked and slightly ajar.

“Ms. Organa?” Rey called into the house. She couldn’t hear anything. Setting the box on the counter, Rey slipped out of her raincoat and draped it next to the box, then made her way cautiously inside.

The shadowed interior of the house indicated nobody was home. But Rey was positive she’d heard a crash.

She moved through to the front of the house, looking for signs of an accident. If Ms. Organa was Luke’s sister, she would be older, too. Maybe she’d fallen and couldn't call for help.

Rey hoped not.

She walked through a large, well-decorated living room with a feeling of sinking dread.

A door off the living room stood slightly ajar, light spilling through the gap, and Rey approached, pushing it open to reveal a large study.

The lamp on the desk was on, shining modestly into the warmly furnished room.

It looked as if one of the bookcases had been shoved back from the wall. Broken glass, books, and bric-a-brac lay scattered over the floor in front of it.

 _Shit. I need to get out of here._ _This ‘accident’ looks more like a robbery in progress..._

Rey caught a faint whiff of diesel and some kind of spicy, earthy scent. Like sex. And a hint of black licorice. Right before a massive, leather-clad hand clamped down over her mouth.

Rey reacted instantly but an arm like a band of steel encircled her waist in a very familiar embrace.

“Well, well. Look who just wandered right in like she owns the place,” a disturbingly recognizable voice growled in her ear. Fear prickled under her skin. Rey _knew_ that voice.

She’d know it anywhere. _Ben_. The so-called delivery dude.

She bit down on the gloved hand as hard as she could and twisted her body into his hold.

Surprisingly, he let her go with an “OW!” and a slight push toward the center of the room.

Not a figment of her imagination, then.

_I'm not crazy. Thank goodness._

Her relief quickly faded as she took in the scene.

Ben glowered at her, huge and dangerous, dressed in all-black leather as he huffed and shook the hand she’d bitten.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His eyes glowed with a distinctive light as they swept over her. Not Ben. _Kylo Ren._ “Don’t you look…tasty?”

He circled her with the grace of a cage fighter, strategically moving to block the exit. His entire being radiated a ferocious energy, a leashed power that filled the room.

Several thoughts hit her all at once.

He was real.

She was trapped.

And she was furious with him.

Without thinking, she snagged a heavy-looking candlestick from the desk and hurled it at his head.

He ducked, and it crashed into the wall behind him, scarring the mahogany paneling.

“You should’ve held on to that,” he told her with a dark chuckle. His matter-of-fact tone only fueled her anger.

_Fuck, he’s right. I should have kept that candlestick and bashed him over the head with it._

Something foreign bloomed in her chest. An urge to fight the man – no, _creature_ – in front of her, and she did not recognize it as entirely her own.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed, looking around for another weapon.

“I’m searching for something before _she_ gets back. I think she’ll be here soon…” His honest answer surprised her.

 _She? Ms. Organa? It must be._ Rey had not expected him to be so forthcoming, seeing as he was obviously breaking and entering. A criminal.

“Searching for what?” she asked, pacing a few steps to her right.

“My whip,” he replied, and again his immediately candid reply surprised her.

“Let me go, then,” she told him. But he just shook his head with a malicious glimmer burning from the depths of those amber eyes of his.

“I don’t think I will,” he uttered quietly. He definitely looked like the menacing beast he'd claimed to be last Friday.

But, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. She could feel it in her bones. She also knew he shouldn’t be here.

And something told her if he managed to get his hands on his “whip” – whatever that was – before Leia returned, things would go very, very wrong.

Rey swallowed. This was unsafe. Being here with him still felt…hazardous.

She paced a few steps, testing for an opening so she could run out the door.

He watched her the way a cat watches a mouse, hunting her with his eyes while holding his body unnaturally still.

_He’s going to pounce, Rey. You’d better be ready when he does._

“What do you need a whip for?” _Keep him talking._

“Oh... For _things_ ,” he said vaguely. His eyes crawled over her and she felt distinctly underdressed.

“You look good enough to eat…”

She yanked a vase off the desk and hurled it at his face, then tried to run for the door when he ducked.

Had he not ducked in the nick of time, she would have taken his head off.

His arm caught her, though, and he flung her back into the room with seemingly very little effort.

Now his eyes glowed with something beyond human.

That burning stare confirmed that he possessed, for lack of a better term, magical powers.

It _had_ all been real.

All of it.

Rey’s pulse skittered into a horribly erratic tempo. Something was going on here. Something she didn’t fully understand.

She searched her mind frantically for how to handle this. She would have to try to distract him until help arrived or make him leave before he got what he came for.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head, sweetheart,” he taunted. “And I’m not leaving without getting what I came for…unless something better presents itself...”

_He doesn’t like it when I call him names. I’ve managed to provoke him before…distract him…_

“You motherfucking cocksucker,” she whispered. “You owe me an explanation. For last week.”

“The only thing I seem to remember owing you is a face-fucking…” he sneered crudely, circling her.

“Go ahead and try it, you dickless piece of shit!” Rey bellowed at him, turning to match his movements so she stayed facing him. 

“We’ll see how filthy your mouth is when it’s stuffed with my very large cock,” he vowed harshly, pointing a gloved finger at her with such intensity she almost – _almost!_ – flinched away.

But there was no fucking way she could back down, now.

“You keep making threats…” Rey licked her lips, then bared her teeth at him. “I’m ready when you are, babe.”

She snapped her teeth and his eyes lit up like hellfire.

_He’s enjoying this. The twisted fucking psycho._

“Ooooh!” He exhaled with evident enthusiasm, narrowing his eyes. “Sweetheart, if I knew you wanted to play _rough_ , I’d have brought some _restraints_.”

He continued circling her, licking his chops like a predatory animal, before twisting his hand in midair to pull a blade from nowhere…

She gulped, and a tremor of fear spiked into her. He’d just done magic. She was in unfamiliar territory, way over her head.

He spoke, low-voiced and threatening, now. “I know how much you like that… _being at my mercy…_ ”

Then she noticed the blade he’d conjured looked very familiar. _My missing steak knife!_

“In your dreams,” she spat with annoyance. _That fucker took my knife. I knew it!_

“That’s the plan, baby,” he lunged at her in a blur of motion, forcing her to stumble further back into the room. "And my dreams aren't nearly as pretty as yours."

_What the hell is he talking about?_

She was livid, now. She screamed wordlessly at him, a holler of rage from the deepest pit of her gut. He laughed.

Wrath pooled in her belly like liquid fire. That son-of-a-bitch was _mocking_ her. She kind of wanted to kill him.

“What the hell are _you_ doing here?” he asked casually. The change of subject floored her.

Before she could stop herself, she found herself responding to him as honestly as he had to her.

“I’m delivering baked goods to Ms. Organa. For the homeless shelter.”

He perked up at her answer. “Luke sent you?”

“What of it?” she snapped. _Don’t tell him anything else, stupid._

“Did he give you anything? Anything odd?” he prodded.

Like she was going to tell him a damn thing.

“What happened on Friday?” she asked, changing the subject on him. “What did you do to me?”

“Aw, you don’t remember?” he replied with false hurt. “We shared a very… _personal_ dream of yours…”

“No, I don’t fucking remember!” Rey taunted back. “Must not have been that memorable.”

His eyes glinted ferociously for just a second before his mocking grin returned.

“Fuck! You’re so damn sexy when you’re mad!” he laughed in a deep, rumbling boom. He adjusted his stance just a fraction. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

She glared at him, matching his broadened stance, ready for another lunge.

“Fighting me turns you on? You sadistic pig!” Rey snarled, looking out of the corner of her eyes for something else to throw at him.

“Fuck, yes!” he agreed with a teasing curl of his lips. “I’ve got a raging hard-on right now.”

“Pig!” she muttered again. She was running out of creative names to call him. His laughter was _really_ pissing her off. And turning her on.

He cocked an eyebrow at her and lewdly grabbed his crotch. “Why don’t we stop fighting and fuck it out the good old-fashioned way?”

Rey felt molten heat erupt through her.

He really was the Devil. She was never so tempted. _Why does he have to be so sexy?_

He seemed to sense her brief hesitation. His next words stopped her completely. “I’ll even let you hold this.”

He held up her steak knife that was not a steak knife. He tossed it to her, and miraculously, she caught the handle firmly in her palm.

“Are you serious right now?” she asked incredulously. _Dammit, he’s making me wet._

He licked his bottom lip slowly and unzipped his pants.

“Do I look serious?” he asked wickedly, pulling his huge erection from the open fly of his pants.

Rey’s pulse skyrocketed at the sight and she almost dropped her knife. It looked…pretty fucking serious.

“Put that away!” she hissed at him, trying to maintain a grip on her overactive sex drive.

But he didn’t put it away. He gripped himself and pumped his gloved fist over the thick red shaft until her knees shook at the erotic sight.

“Fifty bucks says you’re soaking wet right now,” he challenged, cocking his head at her speculatively. “I can _smell_ it from here…”

His nostrils flared, and she clenched her thighs together.

He noticed. Damn him.

He stepped forward and her eyes dropped to his… _aggressively_ aroused dick.

_Oh, shit, I want that..._

“I told you before. Once I fucked you, you’d be spoiled forever…”

He took another step at her, eyeing the blade she held in a now somewhat wavering grip. “I think you need a reminder, sweetheart…”

She stepped back, not sure how to react.

She was definitely aching in places she shouldn’t be.

He moved inevitably toward her, as if he were taming a wild animal, obsidian eyes fixed on hers with hypnotic resolve.

She swallowed and took another step back, then another, until she bumped into a wall. A muffled squeal escaped her lips at the unexpected barrier to her retreat.

“Shhh,” he soothed.

Suddenly he was _right there_ , body heat rolling off him like a blast wave and she was once again assailed by his scent. The faintest hint of diesel and black licorice. And sex.

Belatedly, she realized she held a weapon and she should probably use it.

He seemed to read her intentions, and lightning-fast, he snatched her wrist in a massive hand, slamming it against the wall behind her.

“You don’t really want to kill me do you, sweetheart?” he murmured into her temple.

She could feel the heat from his breath and _fuck!_ it was intoxicating.

A helpless whimper escaped her.

“I didn’t think so,” he whispered into her hair.

The gloved hand not pinning hers to the wall slid down her body, roaming over her breast, belly, and hip as if he owned her. She felt him lower his hand to the hem of her dress and slip underneath, unerringly finding her soaking wet underwear with a satisfied grunt.

Everything happened at once and she wasn’t sure exactly how, and she didn’t fucking care. She wanted more of that hot, pulsing, fiery passion. She’d tasted it before.

Last week had been _real_ , and she knew it now without a doubt. She was not crazy.

He kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth with a gravelly “mmmh”, and her boiling-hot rage evaporated into steamy, aching desire.

He wasn’t giving her time for second thoughts, as he moved his pillow-soft lips to the side of her neck and kissed her there. He kissed and sucked and licked until she arched into his mouth and groaned.

“That’s what I thought,” he stated, before gently biting her. She felt the rasp of his tongue and another bite, this time lower, near her collarbone.

He moved his free hand to his mouth and took the glove between his teeth, yanking it off with a few tugs until it dropped to the ground.

She closed her eyes and trembled at the feeling of his bare fingers stroking her face and neck.

His breath warmed her face and she felt his hand slide under her dress, then a finger under her panties, caressing her sensitive flesh until her knees buckled. Until the only thing keeping her standing was his hand pinning hers to the wall and his thickly muscled, leather-clad chest pressing against her breasts.

“Fuck, you’re always so scorching hot for me, Rey,” he grunted, pushing a finger inside her, curling it up until she moaned and squirmed against his palm rubbing at her.

His mouth landed on hers again, and uncontrolled lust poured into her veins as he worked his hand between her legs. She kissed him back and wrapped her free arm around his neck, threading her fingers through his thick, silky hair.

She felt his grip on her wrist shift until he’d carefully plucked her knife from her fingers and brought it down between them. Panic crept up her throat, then dissolved instantly when she realized he intended to cut off her underwear.

“You don’t ever have to be afraid of me,” he muttered as his hands slid under her skirt. “Well. Maybe just a little…”

The slightly abrasive texture of his jaw and chin sent shivers through her as he nuzzled the side of her neck and bunched the skirt of her dress around her waist.

Again, she sensed he could read her thoughts when he flashed her a wicked grin.

She felt a tug and a pull as he sliced her panties off, and then she was bare.

He lifted the hand holding her knife and opened it, letting the blade fall point-down into the polished floor with a _thunk_.

Then he gripped her roughly and lifted her so easily she felt like she was floating. She wrapped her legs around his waist, marveling at the contrast of his leather-clad hips chafing against the soft skin of her inner thighs.

“Hang on,” he demanded, voice husky with desire, as he pulled the top of her dress down to reveal her breasts. His eyes sparked fire when he discovered she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Rey couldn’t reply, because his massive hands lifted her to his mouth and he sucked on a nipple so tenderly she was sure she was going to pass out. An aching pull clawed its way straight into her belly and she whimpered.

“You miss me?” he whispered as she buried her face in the side of his neck. She _had_ missed him.

His hands shifted until he cupped her ass, digging his thumbs in to direct the angle of her hips.

Then he flexed his pelvis and _took_ her in a single stroke that stole her breath.

“Mmmm…yes,” she moaned as she felt the slide of his thick, heated length push inexorably between her legs.

They sighed together when he was fully seated inside her.

She braced her hands on his broad shoulders and he adjusted his muscled arms to widen her legs.

And then he started rocking his hips and she cried out in ecstatic approval.

“Fuck!” he breathed. “I fucking _adore_ your tight little cunt.”

Fire crackled through her at his hoarse proclamation and she felt her inner muscles clamp down.

“ _Worship_ …” he grunted into her hair, “ _exalt…revere_ …” punctuating each word with a thrust that ended in a grinding bump against her clit.

She was losing herself in the smell of him and warm leather, in the grip of his hands holding her steady as he took her, in the fiery amber of his eyes burning into hers.

“You really don’t remember, do you?” he asked softly, scanning her face curiously as he continued his mesmerizingly rolling thrusts.

Something whispered at the edge of her mind. It was there...if she just looked into his eyes for long enough, maybe she would see…something she was supposed to remember…

“I – oh!” she cried as the realization washed over his face: She _couldn't_ remember, and he could tell.

The force of his movements intensified, and the eyes that met hers filled with black, primal _want_.

“It’s in there…you just have to be fucking reminded,” he gasped brutally.

_Remember._

And it was so _familiar_. She _knew_ him.

“Yes – more, oh, please, Ben, _more!_ ” she sobbed.

His grip tightened, and his rolling thrusts became a steady pounding, and all she could do was cling to him as he fucked her against the wall until she was breathless. Until the warm clenching pull of an orgasm pushed every thought from her mind except the sensation of his cock stroking her deep, hitting her just right…

“Yes, there – _right there_ – don’t stop don’t stop _oh! fuck, yes!_ ” she panted.

Her body began to tighten and flutter and squeeze around him until he groaned loudly in feral encouragement…until the world around them disappeared and became nothing but sweat and skin and the feeling of _him_ filling every inch of her as she spasmed and clenched around him.

“Yes!” he growled as his whole body trembled against hers with the force of his orgasm. “Right. _There_.”

Their foreheads touched, sweat-slicked as they clung to each other, coming down together with shaky breaths. Her legs could not hold her up, she was sure.

He kissed her softly and gently pulled the bodice of her dress back over her breasts. She could only cling limply to his broad shoulders and try to catch her breath…

Then, she heard the distinctive rattle of keys in a deadbolt at the front door.

Ben unceremoniously dropped her to the ground with a curse. “Fuck. Mom’s home.”

_What?_

“I gotta go,” he rasped, zipping his pants and snatching her knife from the floor with an evil smile.

“What?!” Rey shrieked.

“Say hi to my mother for me, sweetheart,” he bit out, before he whirled and bolted out of the room.

_The fuck?_

“What?” she hollered after him, following on shaky legs, as he ran into the kitchen, sliding a bit on the tiled floor, snatching her red raincoat from the counter.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be seeing you again…soon,” he promised with a wink and a devilish grin.

“What?!” she yelled again as he disappeared out the back door with a hasty wave. “Hey, asshole! That’s my raincoat!”

Rey heard the unmistakable rumble of a Harley Davidson engine coming to life from the back of the yard…and then the roar faded as he rode away.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Rey turned around to find a woman who could only be Leia Organa striding into the kitchen.

Leia eyed Rey speculatively, noticing the obvious bite marks on her neck and collarbone.

“Oh, goddammit. I see you’ve met my son.”

Rey stared back at the small, dark-eyed woman in bewildered shock.

_What the hell just happened?_

Then Leia muttered in a resigned voice, “Come on. You probably need a drink or three.”


	4. Scheherazade and the Knights of Ren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia explains some things. Rey is sent on another errand. Kylo really, really wants his whip.

Kylo Ren rode his Harley through the night with single-minded determination.

He hadn’t found his whip, and damn, that infuriated him _._

_I know you have it, Mother, and it’s just a matter of time before I get my hands on it…and when I do…_

He had, however, found something almost just as valuable.

_The Red Riding Hood._

A bright-red raincoat, actually. He’d almost missed it as he’d fled his mother’s house, leaving Rey behind against his will.

Rey. He fucking _wanted_ her. All the damn time. He was so close…

His mind worked quickly as he considered why Luke had sent Rey to Leia’s. Luke _never_ would have done it if he’d known Ren would be there first. Unless.

Unless Luke was trying to kill him. Trying to reset the balance before things got too far skewed.

_That’s it. That’s why she tried to take my head off. The Sandman must not have known I’ve already gotten to her another way…_

Kylo fought to keep his thoughts from lingering on the dream he’d invaded and forced her to share with him. When he’d…corrupted her. Defiled her. Changed everything.

He’d made her forget it. But tonight, when he’d had her pinned against the wall, pushing himself into her scorching-hot cunt, oh, how he’d wanted her to _remember_ …

Soon enough.

Kylo turned his mind back to the problem at hand. Now he had the spindle and the cloak, and time was critical. At least in this world.

After tonight, when Rey would have failed to kill him at his mother’s house, Luke would realize the storyline was off. They would try to reset it and kill him and relocate the anchors before… before he could gather them up and send them to the Underworld. To his Master.

Kylo grinned. Rey would distract his mother for a bit, hopefully before Leia could warn her brother or Maz that Kylo was onto them…

And that would give him time to follow his hunch and see if the next object was where he suspected it might be…

As he sped down the highway, six riders on their own Harleys fell into line behind him. All wore black, and all rode like demons. His Knights.

He leaned over the deeply rumbling engine, increasing his speed to a breakneck pace, heedless of the wet roads in his unflinching resolve to reach his destination as quickly as possible.

_Maz’s Cantina…_

Whip or not, he would tear that place apart, if she didn’t give him what she was hiding.

He would raze that fucking place to the ground.

He would raise Hell itself to get his whip back.  

 

Leia rubbed her forehead in obvious frustration as the roar of Ben’s motorcycle faded into nothingness.

Then she turned around and gestured for Rey to follow her.

 _I do need a fucking drink,_ Rey thought wildly. _This is Ben’s mother?_

Rey followed Leia back through her living room and realized belatedly Leia was headed for the study where – oh, shit! – her cut-off panties would still be on the floor, along with one of Ben’s gloves… not to mention the knocked aside bookcase and the –

But it was too late. Leia walked into her study and muttered, “I raised him to clean up his own goddamn messes… Next time I see him, he’s going to fucking hear about this.”

Rey hovered in the doorway as Leia snapped her fingers and the bookcase realigned itself. As if by…magic.

The broken objects all over the floor, the candlestick and the vase Rey had thrown all went back to their places as Leia moved through the room to a liquor cabinet.

_Drink. Where’s that drink?_

As if reading Rey’s mind, Leia pulled out two glasses and poured them each a generous measure of amber-colored alcohol, neat.

“I’ll let you take care of those,” Leia nodded her head at Rey’s shredded panties and Ben’s glove on the floor by the wall.

Rey felt her cheeks flame with mortification and scrambled to retrieve the evidence of what she’d done just minutes ago in a stranger’s house…with the woman’s son…

Rey balled them up and shoved them into the pocket of her dress, thankful the main reason she bought the dress was for the pockets…

Leia held out a glass to Rey with a knowing look in her eye.

“I’m not judging. You aren’t the only one in this room who’s fallen for a scoundrel…” Leia said kindly before she took a ladylike sip of her drink.  

Rey took the glass of booze from Leia’s outstretched hand. She swigged down a healthy sip and choked a bit at the smooth burn of scotch.

 _Ben’s mother thinks he’s a scoundrel?_ He _was_ a scoundrel, but Rey felt oddly defensive on Ben’s behalf.

“He’s…not that bad,” Rey said weakly.

Leia laughed out loud and took another sip of scotch. “I’m sure he’s all charm.”

Rey smiled a bit at that. Ben could be extremely charming when he wanted, as Rey damn well knew. But he could also be a total asshole.

The two women shared a silent moment in perfect commiseration over Ben – or Kylo Ren – or whoever the hell he was…

“Ms. Organa?” Rey started to ask.

“Please, call me Leia. I think we’ve moved beyond the terribly formal, don’t you?” Leia interrupted with a pointed look at Rey’s pocket over the edge of her glass.

Rey blushed again at the reminder.

“Leia? What is going on?” How could she articulate the extent and scope of that question?

Leia sighed tiredly, and Rey noticed how her dark eyes were the exact shade of Ben’s. Thinking of those thickly-lashed, beautiful eyes, Rey only half-listened to Leia’s answer. At first.

“Ben is…my son. But he is also…not of this realm. None of us are.”

“I don’t understand,” Rey said quietly. _Not of this realm? What have I gotten myself into?_

“Well, no. You’re not supposed to understand. That is not your role.”

“My role?” _Why does it feel like everyone knows more about me than I do?_

Leia seemed to sense Rey’s frustration.

“Whatever happens, you need to understand…neither Luke nor I can reveal too much information to you. You are a huge target and a liability, especially if Ben believes you might have more… _things_ that he’s looking for. And you are in quite a bit of danger from his…other creatures,” Leia said seriously.

Rey was so confused. “Ben won’t hurt me. I know it.”

“Don’t be too sure about that. He sent his own father to the Underworld…” Leia muttered under her breath.

“I know it sounds crazy, but he won’t…” Rey argued. Then she stopped. _Did Ben kill his father?_

“He killed his father?” Rey asked in shock.

“Well. He keeps sending Han back to Hell. Every damn time we cycle through the storyline. After he became Kylo Ren. Han’s fine with it. He won’t tell any of us why. Says it’s between him and the boy…” Leia reached into a carved box and pulled out a long elegant-looking cigar. She held it up to Rey. “Want one?”

“Um. No thanks,” Rey replied. _She’s fucking smoking a cigar? Oh. Yep. She is._

Leia trimmed the tip of the cigar with expertise, at least according to Rey’s inexperienced eye. Then she held a lit match to it and puffed away. _Who is this woman?_

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about. The storyline?” Rey shook her head, in something of a state of awe as she watched Leia Organa drinking scotch and puffing on her cigar as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “What do you mean ‘cycle through the storyline’?”

Leia’s gaze took on a familiar otherworldliness – a haunted look Rey had seen on Ben’s face a few times – as she stared at Rey for several long minutes. Puffing and sipping. And watching. Rey did her best not to squirm.

“Sit down,” Leia finally gestured with her cigar, before walking over to several leather club chairs and seating herself in one. “Please.”

Rey sat, extremely conscious of the fact she was not wearing underwear in front of this very intimidating woman. The thought prompted the even more uncomfortable realization she was very sticky between her thighs. From Ben. When he’d... _Fuck._

Leia smirked at her so condescendingly, Rey wasn’t sure if she should assign Leia Organa to the top position on her shit list.

“Would you tell me what you know so far?” Leia requested politely. But Rey recognized an order when she heard one, thinly veiled as a question, or not.

Rey gave her the least smutty version of everything she could remember since she met Ben. Without the sex, it was fairly short. He’d come to her house to make a delivery last week, he ended up spending the night, he hadn’t called for a few days. Then he’d come back, then the episode with making her get rid of Luke.

"He said he wouldn't hurt me, but that it didn't apply to anyone else or something like that," Rey said. 

“You could be right, actually. About Ben.” Leia stated quietly after a while. “I don’t think he would hurt you…I think he’s looking for certain objects. Artifacts that anchor this realm to ours. That’s why he took your raincoat tonight.”

“He could have just come back and taken the knife – spindle – after the first time we met. But he didn’t. He said he wanted me to help him. He could have taken it on Friday night, but he wanted me to touch it,” Rey mused.

“Did you?” Leia’s regard became unnervingly familiar in its penetrating intensity.

“Yes…”

“ _Shit-fuck-fire._ Rey. Then he intends to corrupt the storyline. The raincoat. Did you wear it tonight? Physically wear it here?” Leia asked, and Rey couldn’t understand why that was important.

“Yes! Luke told me to, then he sent me here… and Ben took it,” Rey replied, floundering in a sea of confusion.

“Luke is trying to get the objects to safety.” Leia puffed on her cigar, thoughtfully. “What was the last thing Ben said to you tonight?”

“Um. To tell you he says hi? No, no, wait! Then he said he’d be seeing me again, soon,” Rey answered.

“He’s rewriting,” Leia stated. Rey’s stomach knotted at the words. It sounded bad. “He can’t do it without one of the Texts.”

“Yes!” Rey remembered. “He said he had one!”

“Goddammit, honey. You are going to have to tell me _everything_. This is fucking important,” Leia fixed her with a very intimidating stare.

Rey searched her memory. “He said something about finally having a text and the Sandman made a mistake. And that he’d gotten to me before I pricked my finger.”

“Where the ever-living _fuck_ did he get a Text from?” Leia asked. Rey hoped the question was rhetorical.

But Leia was already moving on. “After you touched the spindle…what happened?”

Rey took a breath. “Something weird. Like I could see two worlds at the same time.”

“He let you see him? As … a monster?” Leia’s eyes were eerily intense.

“Yes.”

Leia gave her an evaluative look. “And even after seeing that…you weren’t afraid of him tonight?”

“I’m not afraid of the Big, Bad Wolf.” Rey tried for a joke.

Leia didn’t laugh, so Rey continued with what had happened on Friday.

“After I touched the knife-spindle-thing, the room went weird, and then he, um, sucked on my finger – the blood – and he said he’d see me in my dreams.” Rey shivered involuntarily at the memory.

“Sleeping Beauty,” Leia muttered. “He’s already done it, then. Corrupted a storyline. I bet Luke sent you here because you were supposed to kill him tonight, ala Little Red Riding Hood… That’s why I was gone... Luke called me away. He sent you here with the Hood. He must have tipped off Ben somehow, lured him here…”

Rey recalled the sensation she’d had earlier to _fight_ him, the feeling that hadn’t really been her own... Then she recoiled in horror. “You – and Luke wanted me to _kill_ him?!”

“Just the mortal part,” Leia replied matter-of-factly. As if it was no big deal.

_What kind of family is this?_

Leia went on, ignoring Rey’s shocked expression. “He’ll go through the stories one by one until he gets the artifacts.”

“How many, um, of those are there?” Rey asked.

“Less than a dozen, perhaps only six. Only the Jedi know for sure, and Luke is the only Jedi left who can tell… But he won’t say.”

“Wouldn’t it be helpful to know?”

“No. If we know, then the other side can find out, too. That’s why Luke has been hiding. As soon as he realized…” Leia paused. Then she went on. “Ben can access our dreams, mine and Luke’s – and now yours.”

“How?”

“Because. We share blood.” Leia’s tone implied Rey should have found the fact obvious.

“He, um, sucked the blood off my finger…”

Leia grunted. “And then he would have gone into your dream… It would have been Sleeping Beauty.”

“I don’t remember the dream…but he wanted me to, earlier …” Rey swallowed at the very specific way he’d tried to _remind_ her.

“I’ll bet that pissed him off.” Leia showed a sign of humor, and Rey relaxed just a bit.

“Um. Yeah.” Rey was still wildly confused. “What about the Texts? Is he looking for the rest of them?”

“He only needed the one. Once he got in…” Leia pondered, draining the rest of her scotch from the glass she held.

“Can I remember? Like…Is there a way to –” Rey paused, remembering what he’d said to her earlier. “Is there a way to _remind_ me?”

“You’ll remember soon enough. Memory charms can only last so long…”

“Will he come back? In my dreams?” _How am I even asking questions like this? How am I not having a nervous breakdown right now?_

“Maybe… that’s why we can’t tell you too much more. Do you understand?”

“Why won’t he just take the information or whatever from you or Luke?” Rey asked. “He obviously knows where you both are.”

“Because when you share a dream, there is an exchange of knowledge. And whatever Ben knows he won’t want to share with either of us.”

“But he can share it with me?”

“Yes, to a point. You are not a Skywalker, though. You are something else.”

“What am I?”

“Hope,” Leia said mystically, as she stubbed out her cigar in a nearby crystal ashtray.

“Why can’t I remember my dream? With him?”

“He doesn’t want you to remember,” Leia stated quietly.

“Why not?” _Could she be more…cryptic?_

“It’s not worth the risk, apparently…”

“Risk of what?”

“Well, if I had to guess, maybe he transferred some information to you that he doesn’t want you to have just yet,” Leia considered broodingly.

“But. Earlier tonight he acted like he _wanted_ me to remember. At least part of it…” Rey admitted, trying not to blush. _You just have to be fucking reminded_ , he’d said as he’d fucked into her against the wall…

Leia watched her, thoughtfully.

“Will I remember something useful? If my dream comes back to me?”

“Maybe…” Leia said.

“Is the _whip_ an object?” Rey asked curiously, searching for a change of topic.

 _“How do you know about that?!”_ Leia’s entire presence snapped to attention and she barked the question so viciously, Rey flinched.

“He told me he was looking for it! Tonight! That’s why he was here…” Rey’s voice trailed off at the naked fear on Leia’s face.

“He cannot get that whip, Rey. Especially if he manages to get his hands on the anchors… the objects.”

Rey’s heart began to thud. “Why not? What happens if he gets it?”

“The collapse of everything. Everything.”

_Fuck. Dramatic much?_

“Like the end of the world?” Rey queried, a bit sarcastically.

“Like the end of the world,” Leia agreed. “At least, the end of this world.”

Rey took a few breaths and let that sink in.

“I still don’t understand,” Rey finally said.

Leia explained. “Our existence is founded upon two worlds, the realm from which we come, which is eternal and timeless, and this world, where we are now, which is mortal…and fundamentally built upon the constraints of time.”

Rey tried to grasp the explanation, as Leia continued, “The Texts were written before the beginning of time, and they outline the fates of all beings from our realm, the realm of dreams and stories. Events in that world can impact this world; they are tied to certain artifacts which can travel between realms and anchor our fates to mortals.”

Mortals? Rey’s thoughts swirled at the idea. _Aren't we all mortals?_

“If the timeline is corrupted in this realm – and I think it has been – and if, simultaneously, the anchors, the artifacts, are all sent to the realm of dreams and stories, then…whoever controls them could conceivably tip the balance of order, overlapping the mortal world and…”

“So, when he came to me in my dream the other night…?”

“Whatever happened, if it corrupted the storyline, the events that were preconceived in the Texts…it makes the artifacts even more important in maintaining order, balance. They are like guideposts, anchors between our realms… something for the storylines to return to each time we cycle through. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘history repeats itself’?”

Rey nodded. It kind of made sense? Not really.

“My job and Luke’s job is to ensure the artifacts are hidden and protected, and yet put into play within the mortal realm at the appropriate times, to maintain a balance between Darkness and Light, life and death. It’s been attempted before – my father tried and failed to accomplish what Ben is now attempting – but, he never got so close…” Leia sighed.

“Why does Ben want to do this?” Rey couldn’t help but wonder.

“I have my guesses. I am keeping that to myself for now,” Leia finally responded.

“And Ben needs the whip to send things to the Underworld, so he can…?”

“Ben is unique in that he can move between both realms. He is a Skywalker, a master of the waking world. But he fell to Darkness long ago. To become a darkwalker, a dream mage. The dichotomy would have broken a less powerful being…but he is special…as are you…”

“Why is he wanting me to help him?”

“Your powers are in many ways the opposite of his. At some point, likely when he went into your dreams, he…created some kind of warp.”

“How? If he’s been searching for me for a long time, as he said, then it doesn’t make sense!”

“What happens in the sleeping realm is not founded upon time, not in the same way this existence is… Whatever happened last Friday would have changed events in the past, present and future – distorting the outcomes of our fates simultaneously, both eons ago and in the future…I can’t explain it better than that…” Leia looked irritated, now.

“But the other Texts exist? Can’t they affect things still?” The questions wouldn’t stop pouring from her. Rey couldn’t help herself.

“No. The Texts work together, founded upon archetypes that characterize the actions of every being in our realm. Now that one has been corrupted, the others will essentially become null and void without the existence of the anchors in this world... Which is why Luke would have wanted to take out Kylo Ren as quickly as possible – an attempt to reset the storyline before things deviate too far from the original scripts…” Leia was talking to her like she was a little child, but Rey still couldn’t fully get it.

Leia noticed and simply shook her head saying, “I can’t tell you any more. I need to talk to Luke. And in the meantime, I have a good guess as to where Ben might go next… How do you feel about getting there first?”

“Well, last time someone in your family asked me to run an errand, they intended for me to commit murder, so…” Rey did not feel bad for being snarky. This whole situation was monumentally fucked up. She could cop an attitude if she wanted to, dammit.

“Nothing like that. I just have a feeling he’s going to Maz’s place. And I think you are the safest one to send. If he’s not there, Maz can give you the thing she’s holding for me…and you bring it back immediately. And if he is there, he won’t hurt you, as you said, and I need you to distract him, so we can move the whip. He _cannot_ get that whip.”

“So…this whip is there? At Maz’s?” Rey asked.

“Yes. And that’s all you get to know about it.” Leia retorted shortly.

“What about his…creatures?” Rey recalled Leia’s earlier statement about them being dangerous to her.

“I’ll send someone to help you…but time is of the essence,” Leia replied, ignoring Rey’s underlying concern. “If he’s there, you’ll need to stall for time until they arrive.”

“I’ll do it. But…” Rey faltered at Leia’s measuring gaze. “I have to work tomorrow…”

“Right. I’ll just explain to everyone you couldn’t help save the world because you needed to play crayons with a bunch of first-graders.” Leia’s sarcasm could definitely give Ben’s a run for his money…

But Rey had to admit, she would rather be doing this than going back to her boring old life…and when the realization hit her that she might see Ben again, she floundered.

“I’ll explain to Holdo. She’s a friend,” Leia stated, a bit more warmly, now. “Now stand up and hold still.”

Rey stood and watched as Leia waved her hand. She felt her dress melt away and her body became encased in cherry-red leather riding gear, like what Ben had worn earlier that evening.

“You need to look the part…” Leia muttered.

“Hey! My dress!” Rey groused. She liked that dress. “Uh! What the hell?”

“Shush. I’m your fairy fucking godmother.” Leia gave her a wicked grin that so reminded Rey of a certain dark-eyed devil, she clapped her lips shut instantly.

_This is insane. So now I have a fairy godmother?_

“You’ll need something a little more…edgy to fit in where you’re headed.” Leia eyed her up and down.

“What the hell am I wearing?” Rey asked, examining her arms and legs encased in supple red leather.

“Something hot enough to tempt the Devil. I hope. You ride?”

“Hell, yes,” Rey answered enthusiastically. She hadn’t been on a motorcycle for ages and ages. Not since before she’d moved.

But nobody could ride like her.

“You know where Maz’s Cantina is? Just outside of town?”

“Yeah, I’ve never been there, but…” Rey’s heart started pounding. That place had a bit of a reputation for being a den of scumbags. Dangerous, felonious scumbags.

“Ducati’s in the garage. Be careful on the wet roads,” Leia informed her as she pulled a set of keys from thin air and tossed them to Rey. “And remember. He _cannot_ get that whip. Or anything else. _No matter what._ ”

 

Kylo pushed through the doors and immediately found Maz standing behind the bar.

She was on the phone, dammit, and Kylo confirmed who she was talking to when he heard Maz say, “Your hellspawn just walked through my door…”

A weighted pause…

“She wants to talk to you,” Maz told him flatly, holding up the phone.

“Now’s not a good time, Maz.” He gritted his teeth. “Clear this place out… or I will,” Kylo ordered, bracing his legs apart and crossing his arms in his most intimidating pose.

“Benjamin Organa Solo!” he heard his mother screeching through the phone. “Don’t you dare!”

He ignored it and growled at Maz, “Don’t make me huff and puff, Maz…”

His Knights fell into line behind him, glaring with pure menace at the customers in the barroom.

As one, every customer in the bar stopped what they were doing and filed quietly and quickly out the doors. Nobody wanted to mess with the Knights of Ren. Ever.

Kylo kept his stare on Maz as he listened to the raucous sounds of several dozen motorcycles revving to life outside, then fade as the riders got the hell out of there.

“Maz. I need to borrow the bar.”

At some kind of unspoken communication from Ren, the six Knights began to move methodically around the barroom, as if searching for something, combing through each object with extreme interest.

“Where’s my whip?” Kylo asked softly.

Maz glared at him. “Not here.”

“I don’t believe you, Maz. Where is it?” He laced his voice with wrath and threat, fully intending to wreak apocalyptic havoc if she didn’t give it to him. _Immediately_.

Maz held up her hands at the warning. _Good._ “All right! All right, calm down. It’s right here.”

She ducked under the bar and came up with a .12-gauge shotgun pointed right at his chest.

 

When Rey arrived at the Cantina, her nervousness had not diminished. In fact, it had bloomed into near-paralyzing awareness when she realized the task Leia had set before her was not something she was entirely prepared for. She was a fucking first-grade teacher, even if she’d had a bit of a rough upbringing.

Actually. A very rough upbringing. Not very many people in her new life knew about that…

The fucking Sandman. And Leia. They knew, though, Rey would bet.

Fucking Leia. Who had left her totally unarmed, provided the vaguest of facts, most of which had been far too confusing and overwhelming for Rey to absorb in the last hour.

Rey shoved her aggravation aside. Now was not the time.

Tonight, Rey would have to remember the rules of her old life. The rules of the jungle…survival of the fittest.

She might be facing down a very powerful creature. She needed to get a grip on her hormones, recalling how easily Ben wielded sex to very effectively get what he wanted out of her.

Not to mention the magic she’d seen him use.

That was pretty fucking impressive, too.

Rey took a deep breath feeling suddenly very unprepared. She had seen some seriously disturbing shit tonight. How had her mind not buckled from shock?

Maybe it already had. Maybe she’d already lost it. Yeah.

Considering she was about to walk into one of the roughest biker bars in the tri-state area, wearing cherry-red, skin-tight leather…yeah, she’d definitely lost her fucking mind.

Rey became uncomfortably aware of how the outfit she wore would outline the shape of her ass and thighs, and the way her jacket pushed and cupped her breasts, clearly delineating their round shape through the supple leather.

She wondered what was under her jacket, not having had time to examine her outfit too closely in her rush to get to Maz’s place.

She dismounted the Ducati, reluctantly, and noticed seven Harleys parked in a row nearby. She hoped those belonged to just regular customers. Just scumbags and felons…

_Fate of the world, Rey. Fate of the world…_

Rey swallowed and pushed open the doors to the bar. _I can do this._

 

Kylo Ren chuckled evilly at the sight of Maz pulling a shotgun on him, even as he simultaneously held up his hand to stop the incoming shot in midair.

“A hollow-point slug? Really?” he laughed as the echoing boom of the shot reverberated through the bar. “Is that how you greet a customer?”

The round metal of the slug hung incongruously between them, frozen in momentum at Ren’s command. He swatted it from the air and pulled the shotgun from Maz’s hands like a magician who had it connected to an invisible string.

Maz shook her head and put her up hands in apparent surrender.

“Master!” one of Ren’s Knights shouted from across the room. “I’ve found something!”

Kylo did not turn his head at the exclamation, instead watching a moment of panic flicker across Maz’s face.

 _Something important, then._ _Excellent._

He cocked his head and held out his hand, clearly expecting his Knight to hand it over immediately. He did not turn his eyes to the hurried thump of heavy booted steps approaching him, but rather continued his hawk-like evaluation of Maz.

“What is it?” he queried curiously, as he felt his Knight slap down a small, weighty object into his outstretched palm.

As he brought his hand around to examine the item it held, he saw true fear reflected in Maz’s eyes. And the satisfaction that filled him as he flicked open the Zippo lighter could not have been more gloating. Triumphant.

The rasp of the lighter as he thumbed it to life echoed throughout the eerie stillness of the barroom.

_The Lamp. Oh, Mother. You shouldn’t have._

“ _Scheherazade_. She’ll be here soon, then,” he murmured as anticipation uncoiled in his gut. _Rey. Get here soon, sweetheart…_

“Maz. We’re gonna hang out for a bit. I highly recommend you cooperate,” Kylo intoned, his thoughts elsewhere. On Rey.

_Finally. I’ll have some fucking leverage._

 

When she walked through the doors, her ears were instantly assaulted by the loud thump of rock music – _Welcome to the Jungle?_ – and the startling crack of pool balls from the back of the bar.

Three burly, leather-clad bikers lounged at the bar, all turning to her in unison as she entered.

Yep. Those look like felonious scumbags…

A tiny, ebony-skinned woman of indiscriminate age stood behind the bar, polishing a glass with vigor. She did not look up as Rey’s entrance. She looked extremely pissed off.

_Shit._

Rey saw movement out of the corner of her eye as her arm was roughly gripped by inhumanly strong hands and she was rudely shuffled forward, past the scumbags at the bar to an ancient plaid sofa at the back, where _he_ sprawled, arms and legs outstretched in a deliberate ownership of the space around him.

_Shit, shit, shit! He’s here. Dammit, Leia._

He looked dangerous and arrogant, lounging there like a fucking sultan in his harem as his eyes sparkled with triumph...

Shit. He looks too happy. That could only mean…he had something. His whip? Fuck.

“Hey sweetheart,” he grinned wickedly at her. “Told you I’d see you again soon. How’s my mother?”

“Ben,” Rey hissed at him, shrugging off the rough hands of the _creature_ that gripped her. She tried to sound stern, but the sight of his long legs spread out like that made her just a bit wet.

“Nice outfit, baby.” Ben swept a lingering, no, _devouring_ , gaze over her. He looked like he wanted to eat her alive.

That dimple in his cheek made an appearance, triggering a shot of lust that speared directly into her womb.

“Your mother, er, gave it to me…” Rey told him. _Why did I tell him that?_

“Oh, Mom dressed you? This ought to be good. What’s under that leather?” his eyes eagerly flared with lecherous interest that Rey could _feel_ slithering over her skin. Her traitorous body responded with another surge of wetness and a deep, fluttering sensation in her belly.

Rey had no idea what was under her jacket. But she was definitely wearing underwear again. She could feel the thong riding up the crack of her ass. So that was good.

“I remembered my dream. I know what you’ve done.” Rey told him, hoping to throw him off.

He didn’t react at all. Not a blink. Not a twitch of the eyelid. Nothing. _That’s interesting._

“I don’t think so,” he finally declared. “I think you’d be a lot more pissed off at me if you remembered what I did to you…”

He pulled a cigarette from a package in his hand, flipping open a lighter and taking a drag. Rey felt an unnatural pull of awareness at the sight of the Zippo in his large hand.

_That lighter. That’s something important. A thing he is not supposed to have...Dammit, Leia. What am I supposed to do, now?_

“I’m here for that.” Rey pointed at the Zippo he held and tried for an authoritative tone. At her words, his eyes became veiled, obscuring his reaction even as he took in her appearance a second time.

 _Fuck._ She eyed him as he squinted around the smoke, noticing the way his broad chest rose and fell as he pulled a drag from his cigarette, the way his leather pants hugged his thighs and outlined the bulge of his crotch.

He watched her and smoked for a few minutes. The cherry on the tip of his cigarette had nothing on the heat in his eyes. And that’s when she knew. _He’s hiding something. He’s plotting something._

_Be very, very careful, Rey._

“Tell you what. Let’s make a friendly wager,” Ben said finally. “I’ll give you this -” He held up the Zippo and wiggled it between his fingers, “-if you can beat me in a game of pool.”

_A game of pool? Oh, yessss._

Rey secretly wanted to jump up and down. She was _so_ good at pool. She’d run circles around the other kids in the group home. Then, in college, she’d played with expertise that quickly won her a fearsome reputation.

Would Ben know that? She didn’t think so. And it would be a perfect distraction until help arrived. 

She kept her face blank. She wanted that fucking Zippo.

“Like. Um, nine-ball?” she asked, biting her lip, looking unsure. _You’re going down, buddy._

“Sure. Nine-ball’s good…” he murmured, dragging his smoldering eyes away from her teeth pulling at the soft pink flesh of her bottom lip to give her the most tempting smile she’d ever seen. It made her want to climb into his lap and kiss him until...

“What if I lose?” she asked innocently, trailing a finger over the edge of her leather jacket, hoping to distract him.

His eyes crawled over her again. “Hmmm. How about a lap dance?”

Oh.

He was definitely going down.

“How do I know you aren’t going to cheat?” she murmured, giving him her best wide-eyed stare.

“How do I know _you_ aren’t going to?” he returned silkily.

Rey pretended to consider for a minute, taking a deep mental breath. She tried her best to sound reluctant, “Deal. But I get to break.”

He laughed and jumped up with the grace of a cat, catching her around the waist to kiss her neck with a muffled “Mmmh”. He smelled like tobacco and black licorice, and Rey found it oddly sexy and wanted nothing more than to melt into him. Until her common sense belatedly kicked in.

 _Distract him. Until help arrives. That is the plan._ _And if you can get your hands on that lighter – or whatever it really is – all the better…_

He whispered into her neck. “You’re on. But you should know better than to make a deal with me of all people…”

 

The sight of Rey’s ass outlined in red leather, bent over the pool table as she put the balls into a diamond, was enough to give him heart palpitations.

Kylo licked his lips and resisted the savage urge to grab her and fuck her every which way but loose right there on the table… but, no. He would keep her here, let her think she was distracting him, stalling for time, until whoever his mother sent arrived.

And then he was getting his whip. One way or another.

She racked the balls a bit nervously, looking up at him for approval when she was done. He had to remind her that the nine-ball went in the center of the diamond, and she flushed with embarrassment at his wolfish grin while she rearranged them with a self-conscious, “Oh! Right. I knew that.”

_Like taking candy from a baby. Oh, sweetheart. I cannot fucking wait for my lap dance…_

Then she examined the available pool sticks from the rack on the wall.

At that moment, Maz approached with a long, thin case.

 _What’s this?_ He quirked a brow at her in question.

Maz glared at him and shoved the case into Rey’s hands. “That’s on loan from Chewie,” she spat at Kylo, before marching back to her place behind the bar.

Rey opened the case and found a gorgeous pool stick in two pieces. She looked helplessly at Kylo, “It’s broken? How am I supposed to?”

He smiled indulgently at her, grabbing the separate pieces and screwing them together.

“That’s a nice stick. You are going to need all the help you can get, sweetheart,” he murmured, handing it to her.

_It’s not going to do you a lick of good, though, if you don’t know how to use it…and I am fully prepared to cheat my way through this game…_

Rey blinked at him, looking like a lost baby.

Then his mind went blank when she waved her hand in front of her face, gave his crotch a pointed glance, and murmured sultrily, “Is it getting hot in here?”

He couldn’t help his tongue from nearly rolling out of his mouth as she slowly unzipped her tight red jacket. He was pretty fucking curious as to what his mother put her in, especially knowing it would be intended to distract the hell out of him.

“Help?”

_What?_

“A little help?” she asked again, looking at him with those huge gorgeous eyes. She bit her lip and all the blood in his body rushed straight to his dick.

 _Ohhh. This is goooood,_ he thought as he stepped forward and helped her peel the tight red leather from her arms to reveal…

His mouth watered at the sight before him.

She wore a strapless corset in black leather, and oh, fuck, if that didn’t call attention to her gorgeous cleavage…

Her peachy skin glowed under the lamp over the pool table, lightly dusted with freckles, as he remembered very fondly. And the scent of her skin and warm leather…was fucking _delicious_.

He wanted to drag his tongue all over her, bury his nose in that velvety-supple flesh…chew on all those tender little places he knew would make her scream…

The bodice pushed her breasts up to her chin, emphasizing the soft roundness of her curves. He had to resist the very strong urge to sink his teeth into those tempting mounds.

_Shit._

The corset cinched in her waist, making it appear impossibly small. His hands itched at the idea of wrapping them around her, testing the size and shape of her, to feel her helpless and small under him, all bound up in such a tight, delectable little package.

Her gently rounded hips flared from the bottom of the corset, and fuck if he didn’t want to rip her pants off and dig his fingers in, marking her with bruises as he…

“Chalk the tip for me?” she begged with a bat of her lashes, holding her pool cue out to him.

“Sure, baby,” he breathed, taking the chalk from the edge of the table and rubbing it over the tip of her cue stick while he looked down the front of her corset.  

His roving gaze caught a hint of rosy nipple peeking out from the edges, and a bead of sweat slid down his forehead. His dick was now painfully, agonizingly rock-hard.

And then she fucking reached out and stroked her hand over the bulge in his pants and he almost came right then and there.

“Mmmm. Thanks,” she whispered, winking at him.

She turned around to make her shot and his eyes almost rolled back into his head at the sight of a lacy red thong peeping from the back of the low-slung leather pants she wore.

_Dammit._

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and took an inordinately long time to line up her shot, wiggling her rear so temptingly his hand had already been moving to cup around her ass before he realized she would call him a cheater if he distracted her…

She slid the stick between her fingers as she lined up to the cue ball, and the way she slid it back and forth, slowly, was so erotic, he couldn’t fucking breathe. He couldn’t remember where he was or why he was even there. His mind scrambled frantically for a reason to yank her into a back room and just…

Somewhere at the back of his mind, he realized she’d just cracked a break with the expertise of a pool shark.

He hadn’t even had time to cheat as he belatedly realized the balls had scattered around the table, and he watched in shock as the nine-ball rolled neatly into the far-right corner pocket.

She fucking beat him. In one shot.

Well, hell.

It wasn’t very often someone beat the Devil at his own game.

She turned and gave him a sweet smile that made her eyes sparkle and his dick throb painfully.

He reached into his pocket to grudgingly pull out the lighter, but a shout from the front of the bar distracted his attention.

_Time to use my leverage._

 

Rey stared up at him, enthralled by the absolute thrill of seeing the surprised little “oh” on Ben’s luscious red lips as he realized he’d been beaten. She was just about to pull a gloating smirk on him, but the noise from the front of the bar distracted her. 

She heard the shout at the same time and realized it was Leia’s long-awaited help arriving on the scene.

Two men stormed into the bar, one older with curly brown hair and sultry, hooded eyes. The other was younger and very handsome, with dark skin and a serious look on his face.

Naturally, she recognized Finn. Her very first shitty boyfriend. Now ex-boyfriend. She froze, astonished at the sight of him. Here.  _The hell is he doing here?_

Before she could move, Ben grabbed her by the hair, yanking her back into his solid chest – _Ow! That fucking hurt!_ – and pulled a knife from thin air. Rage seared through her, as she realized it was her damn steak knife. Again.

He held it to her neck, and Maz’s eyes blinked in fury from across the bar. “You wouldn’t dare, Benjamin!”

Rey's rage turned to fright as she recognized everyone else's concern at her predicament. _He might hurt me, after all_ , she wondered, trying to suck in a trembling breath of air.

“My name is Kylo Ren, now, Maz. And you have no fucking idea what I am capable of if you don't give me what I want.” He pressed the knife closer to Rey’s throat, just hard enough to indent the flesh but not enough to draw blood. _“Where is my fucking whip?”_

Finn and the other man froze in place at the sight of her. Finn called out, “Rey! Honey, don’t move.”

“No fucking shit!” she screamed as Ben’s grip tightened across her chest, pinning her arms down.

“I am running out of fucking patience,” he snarled cruelly, jabbing the knife just hard enough to bring forth a drop of blood. Rey whimpered in fear at the sting of pain and the slow hot trickle down the side of her neck, silently pleading with Maz to just give him the damn thing. They could sort out the mess later.

Maz stood her ground, looking from Ren’s eyes to Rey’s throat.

“Don’t make me send her, Maz…” he uttered ruthlessly. “I’ll fucking do it.”

Maz swallowed, then said cautiously. “I don’t have it anymore. Chewie ran out the back with it right before you got here.”

She felt Ben’s hands tighten around her at Maz’s words. She could feel the murderous fury rolling off him in hot, lethal waves.

_Oh. Fuck._

Rey whimpered again, right before she heard the most terrifying words yet, whispered right into her ear. “Off you go to dreamland, sweetheart. I’ll be there for you soon…”

At that, the knife in his hand disappeared, and he dipped his head around to ardently lick at the wound he’d made.

His silky hair tickled her neck, and his hot tongue rasped at the stinging place where he’d jabbed her with the knife.

She felt his hot breath and the slightest shiver from his huge body hovering over hers, a slight groan and a tremor, as if he couldn’t quite contain the pleasure of _tasting_ her.

His eyes swirled with dark power, inhumanly glowing and yet devoid of all light.

Maz and Finn screamed, “Nooo!” at the same time.

Then, everything went black, as she sagged into his arms…

 

“Where did Chewie take it? The longer she’s in there, the harder it will be to bring her back… _intact_ …” Ren growled.

Maz didn’t speak. She just stared at Rey’s limp form as he held her against his chest.

Ren shifted his hold on Rey and glowered at a nearby Knight. The creature strolled to the bar and smashed a bottle against it, then walked over to hold the jagged edge out to Ren.

“Tell you what. I’ll be back in an hour. I’ll leave my Knights here to keep an eye on things. If my whip isn’t here when I get back, I’ll leave her in there forever… And then I’m going to rain down fire and brimstone on this world the likes of which you’ve never fucking seen…”

With that, the entire room trembled, as if an earthquake hit, and all of the lights flickered and pulsed with paranormal fervor.

Ren dropped Rey’s legs, holding her lifeless body against his in a twisted parody of standing her next to him. As she lolled there like a limp rag doll, he stretched out his free hand, swiping his index finger over the jagged edge of glass his Knight patiently held outstretched for his master.

Maz screamed, “Nooo!!” again, but it was too late.

With a diabolical grin, Kylo Ren had already pushed his bleeding finger into Rey’s mouth and whispered into her hair.

_“Suck.”_

And they both disappeared in a whirl of dark energy, a soft concussion of black smoke shot through with red, sizzling sparks, leaving only a faint whiff of diesel behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Part One.


	5. The Dragon's Tower

_**Somewhere in a Dragon's Tower, Trapped in a Dream**_

She woke ungently, with a gasp and a startled twitch of limbs as if she’d been falling and couldn’t catch herself.

After that initial movement, her body locked into place by an invisible force, un-obedient to her overwhelming desire to run, to move.

Her eyes frantically scanned the room. Gray, stone walls. A moth-eaten canopy above her head. Low, reddish-glaring light from a slotted window to her right...

 _I’m lying on a bed,_ she realized.

And then she heard the breathing.

Something was in here with her. Crouched in the corner, watching her.

Terror shuddered through her as she realized whatever it was, it was dangerous. _And hungry._

 

Kylo Ren watched the sleeping girl and considered keeping her asleep here, in this place. It was the safest way to ensure her mind remained untouched, untainted, by his.

In this realm, this fire-bound tower, all was darkness. Here he reigned as Master and Monster, and those who served him feared his terrible powers. None dared to defy him, and he rarely denied himself from doing or taking whatever he wanted.

But _her_ – he would do his best not to hurt her.

_I will do my best. But if she wakes..._

He could only barely resist the urge to wake her, taste her. He’d hunted and hungered for her for so long…a lonely journey with no apparent end in sight. Now, finally, she was here, in his realm…and the monster could never resist his true nature for long.

He wondered how long he would be able to hold off.

He watched her distressed breathing, her eyelids flickering frantically in her restless slumber, and recalled the first time he’d ever seen her.

The day his endless nightmare began.

 

**_A Long Time Ago, in a Realm Beyond Mortal Boundaries…_ **

The young knight had no original intention of veering from his path. Until he heard the singing. A soft, melodious voice wafted through the woodsy air of the forest, drawing him from his deeply troubled thoughts and lifting the scowl from his brow.

It was…enchanting.

Having the self-possession to understand his current plans to return to the castle could be changed with no real harm to anyone, he commanded his horse to turn from the road with a slight pressure of his knees, moving man and beast toward the sound of the hauntingly beautiful song.

His destrier, an enormous black animal that only answered to him and him alone, understood his master’s wishes instantly, and with nothing more than a rustle of leaves and muted hoofbeats on the springy-soft loam of the forest floor, obediently moved in the direction of his master’s interest.

With another nudge of his knees, the knight stopped his horse. He dismounted gracefully and silently, despite the size of the beast he rode, or his own large, near-brutish warrior’s body encased in ceremonial armor. A stealthy approach was often best when exploring an unknown quantity.

He crept through the underbrush and the song grew louder as he approached a break in the trees and thick underbrush. He heard running water and realized a stream must run nearby.

Moving with a stealth he rarely needed to employ in his daily life, he crouched at the base of a large, moss-covered tree and observed a young girl, bathing in the stream.

It was _her_ voice, then, that had called him so hypnotically to seek out this place.

She captivated him.

Unaware of his forbidden gaze, she faced away from him, standing hip-deep in a pool formed by a bend in the stream.

Her creamy-white skin glowed in the afternoon sunlight filtering through the canopy of trees overhead.

Her long chestnut hair hung well past her waist, curtaining his view of her derriere. He found himself a little disappointed at the obstruction to his otherwise keen surveillance, even as he admired the rich, sable tones of the long tresses which shielded her body from him. The ends of her hair dipped into the water of the pool and swirled gently about her, clinging to the curve of hip and slope of thigh as she sang and scrubbed her arms and chest in the brisk water.

He knew the water would be chilly, even on a warm day like this because he caught a glimpse of a taut, rosy nipple as she bent to scoop handfuls of water over her smooth skin. The hard, pebbled bud captured his undivided attention, compelling his eye to rake over her form with a more calculating assessment upon second glance.

Unsettled desire sank into him, a sensation he was not entirely unfamiliar with, having been raised as a prince and as a knight who could sate himself on any woman who was willing to have him.

And women were always willing to have him. Ever since he’d been fifteen and understood the needs of a man when he’d been initiated into sex by the most practiced courtesans in the realm. 

He watched the girl lean over the water, gathering her hair to one side. His desire for her expanded into a more physical reaction when he noticed the shape of her rounded buttocks and slim waist as she ducked under the water.

Not a girl, then. A young woman. Old enough for him to continue his illicit imaginings, certainly.

Her singing stopped as she dipped her body into the frigid waters. She came up sputtering and laughing and shrieking just a bit at the cold, and his heart contracted at the unabated joy. The lightness of her.

He couldn’t breathe. She was magnificent.

She scrambled up the sloping bank on the other side of the pool and hastily snatched up a large rag. _No, not a rag. A dress. A peasant’s garb_ , he realized.

 _She is a nobody_ , he thought uncomfortably. And yet he wanted her…

He couldn’t help but watch her wring out her hair and twist it into a rough knot at the back of her slender neck before she donned her simple, well-worn dress.

He knew he should leave. He should get back to his destrier, who would be waiting for him patiently in the still forest just far enough away to remain unheard by the young woman…

However, he found himself wanting to see more of her.

He briefly considered striding through the shallow waters of the stream and approaching her and letting her recognize him – he was well aware every resident of the kingdom knew of him and who he was. He wondered if she would let him tug her into his armor-clad chest and kiss her until she gasped for breath and begged him to have her…to _take_ her there in the forest in the soft ground near the stream.

No. She was a distraction and an inconvenience and could not be borne. He’d just ridden away from his own betrothal ceremony, promised to marry another to bring peace and security to the realm.

Newly betrothed, he knew his duty required him to maintain a faithful, reverent focus upon his wife-to-be, a tall, haughty blonde woman his own age. Who looked to have ice water running through her veins.

He could not imagine himself making love to his betrothed without a seriously debilitating quantity of wine. However, this peasant-nobody-distraction was an unwelcome intruder into the well-regulated order of his life and thoughts. And he – he was a prince. He knew better.

Dread pulsed through him at the thought of his impending wedding night, set to be a week from now.

He was under no misinterpretation as to the nature of his pending union with the Princess. It would be a political marriage, an alliance advantageous to the people of the realm, but not to his personal feelings.

He scowled bitterly at the thought and turned silently away to head back to his horse. And his real life. And his duty as a Prince of Alderaan.

 

As he rode back to the castle his mind plunged into bitter darkness, and he allowed himself to wallow in it just a bit.

Of all the people in the Republic, Ben Solo’s life was the most enslaved, the most chained to duty. His marriage would bring peace between the Skywalkers and the Darkwalkers, the Jedi and the Sith. It had been foretold by the mages in the ancient Texts, written long before the existence of even this realm. The Texts proclaimed of One would come and bring true Balance.

When a Prince had been born to Princess Leia, the people of the realm had rejoiced to receive the news. A new Royal Son of Skywalker lineage would have the magical powers and political clout to change their world…to right the wrongs of his grandfather’s brutal legacy.

And their beloved Prince would be held to the highest, most scrutinizing standards of behavior, expected to do nothing less than willingly and faithfully serve the realm before the desires of his own heart.

He’d always vaguely resented the circumstances, but he knew this was what he’d been raised to do. What he’d been born to do. He had accepted the yoke of duty begrudgingly, but loyally. Until he’d seen the young woman by the stream, he’d fully, if not wearily, accepted his destiny. For the most part.

But, now…

Not so much.

The Texts had long since been hidden away by the Jedi, who professed no one ruler should own them or even possess them. This aggravated Ben to no end. If he could only see them for himself, prove there was a different way…a way out…so he could take the reins of his own life and…simply live like a normal person.

But, no.

His grandfather had tried to do just that and had failed spectacularly, plunging the realm into a decades-long Civil War that appeared to have no end. Ultimately, his grandfather’s actions had resulted in the destruction of the Royal City of Alderaan, forcing the Organas and Skywalkers to remove themselves to Coruscant, where they would continue their battle against the Darkwalkers.

Ben’s mother, however, was a wily politician and had brokered her own son in marriage in an attempt to buy peace.

 _Where is the balance in that, if both parties to such a bargain are so clearly unwilling to participate?_ Ben knew for a fact the Princess to whom he’d been promised held no love for him. During their betrothal ceremony, her distaste for him had been palpable. Watching the icy-blue eyes of his bride-to-be only reinforced his own discomfort with the proceedings.

They were pawns, both.

His mind fixed on the young woman he’d watched by the stream, and he wondered if he might find out who she was. If he might have her brought to him. One last indulgence before a lifetime of unhappily wedded monotony.

He rode back to the castle, lost in unhappy turmoil.

As preparations continued for the Prince’s wedding, the kingdom seemed bursting with joy, emphasizing the irony of his own conflicted feelings. Banners danced brightly from even the humblest of peasants’ homes, and a Royal decree proclaimed all taxes and tithes waived for a full year in celebration of the pending nuptials.

That week everyone in Coruscant celebrated the momentous event, looking excitedly to their Prince to finally end the War and bring stability to their war-torn land. Although those who lived nearest the capital city had the least to fear, he knew the Outer Reaches had been ripped apart by the War, as the Sith searched unendingly for the Sacred Texts in their bid to dominate all.

This did not stop Ben from sending his Knights to seek out the girl and bring her to him. 

Over the course of the week leading up to his wedding, the Prince grew increasingly anxious as his Knights repeatedly came back empty-handed. He grew despondent, depressed, even, at the thought he might not see her again. 

It wasn’t until the morning of his wedding he’d received a bit of unexpected information from his very own squire, young Finn, as to her possible identity and location.

Finn was a bright young man, handsome and smart and eager to serve, and when he was late in arriving to assist with dressing the Prince for his wedding, Finn was almost comically embarrassed.

Ben really didn’t mind. He had been enjoying the time alone. To brood over his fate. He wouldn't have called it sulking.

 _Royalty doesn't sulk_ , as his mother constantly admonished him.

“I’m so sorry for my lateness, milord,” Finn bowed deeply, dark skin flushed with a sheen of sweat he’d clearly acquired from running all the way to the castle…

Ben chuckled as he pulled on his black gloves and merely raised a brow. “Well. At least tell me your late appearance was for something worthy. A girl perhaps?”

Knowing he would not receive a further rebuke from his liege, Finn grinned up at Ben and said, “Yes, milord. It was, actually. A girl – how did you guess?”

Ben laughed and replied. “Well? At least tell me about her before I expire from my own curiosity.”

Finn’s dark eyes shone with good humor as he stood to help drape a thick red cape over Ben’s shoulders, checking the cinches of the ceremonial armor wrapped around Ben’s thickly-muscled chest.

“She’s beautiful. My age. Long, silky, chestnut-colored hair…and freckles,” Finn mumbled as he re-tied the breastplate more securely.

Ben stilled, keeping his expression impassive. “She sounds lovely, Finn.”

“Mmm. Smooth, pretty skin…and a smile that can light up the darkest night sky. And her eyes. I can never figure out which color they really are… Oh! And she can sing, too – a wonderful voice!” Finn explained. “That’s why I was late, you see? She was singing and I just…couldn’t ask her to – is everything all right, my lord?”

At Finn's description, Ben had stopped breathing. Was _this_ the girl who had so plagued his thoughts since last week?

Finn was watching him concernedly, and Ben took a breath.

“I’m to marry today.” Ben’s gruff statement was as close to an explanation as he was willing to give the squire. He was a Prince, after all.

“Tell me more about the girl,” he finally ordered Finn, not caring if his squire thought it odd if Ben wanted to hear all about a strange girl on his own wedding day.

Finn went on, too eager to realize Ben’s voice had taken on an edge. “She lives at the edge of the forest, near the old mill. A sweet, lovely thing, if I ever knew one. I…think I might be in love with her, milord.”

“Have you…told her? Of your feelings?” Ben prodded, not caring if his overly-interested questions might prompt suspicion from his squire.

Finn seemed to take his lord’s questioning as flattering interest and replied enthusiastically, “Not yet! But I will. I was thinking…maybe when you are otherwise occupied this evening milord, I might find her and…well, all of Coruscant will be celebrating and…”

Ben let Finn prattle on as he stood quietly so the young man could finish dressing him and fiddling with his armor and cape and all the dratted accouterments of royal ceremonial wedding attire.

But his thoughts were far away. On a sable-haired beauty who apparently lived at the edge of the forest. Near the mill.

He knew the place.

 

**The Dragon’s Tower…**

“You’re awake,” a deep rumbling voice stated. It…was not human.

Rey glanced frantically to the shadowed corner from where the voice had emerged. A pair of glowing eyes met hers. She could not see into the shadows, no matter how hard she tried to strain her eyes. 

She couldn’t move. Her heart thrashed and pounded in fear as she struggled to sit up. She could not move.

“Wh- where am I?” she asked frantically. “Why can’t I move?”

“You…are my guest,” the voice said.

Rey desperately tried to recall the last thing that had happened before she found herself here.

Maz’s bar. Scumbags.

Ben had been there looking devastatingly handsome, as usual. He’d gotten hold of a Zippo that was more than just a lighter… They’d played pool. She’d beaten him.

Then Finn had arrived… and…

Ben. He’d roughly pulled her against him and held her hostage, put a knife against her throat, and…

Rey became aware of a painful sting at the side of her neck where Ben had pierced her with the tip of the blade.

At the bar. He’d jabbed it into her neck when demanding his whip…the blood had led a warm trail down her neck. And then, he’d _licked_ it.

She swallowed convulsively as she recalled the soft, moist pressure of his hot tongue swiping over the puncture…the way he’d trembled and moaned so gently, his hot breath teasing the fine hairs at the nape of her neck…and it hadn’t been real – it _couldn’t_ have been real – how the sensation of him _tasting_ her had driven her nearly mad with desire right before…

… _Ben?_

_Where am I? Why can't I remember things?_

“Why can’t I remember what happened last weekend?” she blurted out. 

“Because. I’m not letting you.” The voice spoke calmly, but his tone was unbending. She knew she was speaking to Ben and he would not be bargained with. 

“Why?” She couldn’t help but ask, even as she tried to wrench her arms free from whatever held her pinned to the bed.

“The harder you fight, the stronger your bonds will become. I think it's best if you try to stay still,” he coaxed, almost kindly. His voice. It sounded different. Deeper. More...gravelly than usual. 

She swallowed again. He sounded like he was trying to help her, but…maybe if she got him talking, got him to let down his guard, she could…

“Why did I wake up last Monday, and there was no sign of you? How did you do that?” She did her best to appear relaxed. 

“That was all Skywalker. The Sandman can control things like that in the mortal realm.” He paced now. She could not see his form, but she sensed him hovering just out of sight in the shadows beyond her bed.

“But not you?” She wiggled her left wrist and felt a slight pressure pinning it more firmly into place. 

“I can control things in both realms…to a point…” he replied evenly.

“You said…earlier…you wanted me to _remember_ …” She stated it as a question.

His silence told her he did not wish to discuss it, that moment earlier when he’d fucked her against the wall at his mother's house. 

_It’s in there…you just have to be fucking reminded…_

“Why?” she pushed.

“That was…something else…” he finally admitted. “A memory you … don’t have, anymore, it seems…”

He sounded regretful. She changed the subject, instinctively not wanting to provoke his anger in this place. 

“You can…control the, um, anchors?” she asked, unfamiliar with the proper words to describe the objects that were of such obvious value to him.

“Yes. They are mine. They. Belong to me,” he answered. “As do you.” That last announcement was laced with sinister finality.

 _You’re. Mine!_ He’d shouted at her that night, the night he’d revealed himself as a monster. Her nerve endings prickled.

“Why are we here?” she asked nervously. 

“You know why.”

“You’re keeping me here until they bring…your whip?” she finally replied.

“Yes.”

“Your whip isn’t like the other…things? You can’t call it to you as you do the, um, spindle and stuff?” She surreptitiously tried moving her right thigh and felt a squeezing pressure freeze it into place. 

“My whip is…essential to my plans for us.” His reply evaded her question entirely.

“Us?” _What does that mean?_

“Yes.”

“What are your plans?” _Shit. I'm stuck. Every time I move, it just gets worse..._

“You should be more concerned with the fact you are awake just now,” he whispered softly. “Asleep, I might have been able to hold back. Awake…well, now. You’ve just opened yourself up to a whole new world of bad things happening…You always wake up, don’t you?”

“Is that what happened last weekend? I woke up?” she asked, beginning to panic. His last proclamation sounded…so ominous.

“Yessss,” he hissed at her.

She pulled a deep, shuddering breath into her chest.

“Won’t you please let me go?” she begged, a little more panic flooding into her. 

“No,” he stated simply. “But even if I did. You…can’t go out there. It’s too dangerous, and frankly, I like having you right where you are, sweetheart.”

“Can’t I at least…see you, then?”

A lengthy pause.

Then, he stepped out of the shadows.

At the sight of him, she fought against her bonds with all her strength.

 

**_A Long Time Ago, in a Realm Beyond Mortal Boundaries…_ **

He’d sent Finn ahead with the rest of the wedding party, under the pretense of wanting to stop and check his horse’s shoe.

Finn agreed he would alert everyone the Prince would arrive shortly, and Ben waited impatiently until everyone had moved beyond his sight.

The wedding would be held at the sacred temple just on the other side of the forest…he would have several hours before anyone came looking for him. He hoped.

As soon as Ben’s entourage disappeared around a bend in the road, Ben leaped back onto his destrier and rode hell-bent for the mill, just at the edge of the forest.

It was insane what he was doing. It would cause so much trouble, he couldn’t begin to fathom it.

And his family. They would be so disappointed.

Ben did not care.

He was done playing by the rules that destiny had set for him.

He intended to find that girl…and then. He intended to have her.

He’d almost run her down when he reached the rutted drive that led to the mill. She had just stepped out of a crumbling hut with a roughly-hewn basket full of washing and his horse had been traveling so quickly – at his command – had he not veered at the last moment, she would have been trampled under the beast’s deadly hoofs.

Rather than scream, she’d merely swerved aside and shouted angry curses at him as he wheeled around and leaped from his mount.

The instant she recognized him, though, she fell to her knees in horror. “Your Highness! I did not – forgive me!”

He approached her bowed form cautiously. Frightening her had been the last thing he’d wanted. He adjusted his voice to the softest, most unthreatening tones possible. “Please. Rise. I – are you all right?”

She remained bowed so low her hair streamed over her into the dusty yard and he found himself again perilously, mind-numbingly fascinated by her.

“Please.” He held out a gloved hand and she looked up at him with wide, hazel eyes.

And he knew. This was his destiny. _She_ was his destiny. 

Something flickered in her eyes, too, and he knew he was not alone in whatever he was feeling at the moment.

An instant attraction.

No, beyond attraction. Overwhelming need poured into him as her small hand reached gently into his and he pulled her to her feet.

“Come with me?” he murmured, unable to keep the naked want from roughening his voice.

She nodded mutely, and he swept her into his arms, carrying her to his steed as if she were his bride. He hooked his booted foot into a stirrup to lift them both into the saddle and pressed his knees into the horse's sides, moving them into a smooth gallup. 

Her arms, already wrapped around his neck, tightened a fraction at the speed, and it occurred to him that she might not ever have been on a horse before. 

He slowed their pace and smiled into her frightened eyes, giving her a gentle press of his arms for reassurance. 

She smiled back at him and it lit up the sky. 

He rode a short distance until his aching erection could no longer take another minute of her soft curves pressing against him with each stride of his mount.

He noticed a clearing at the edge of the forest, sun-speckled and still lightly dewy in the late morning air and headed to it.

He dismounted first, then lifted her down, pulling her into him, unable to tear his eyes from hers.

She returned his gaze with equal fascination and he found it a bit thrilling that she was, after her initial shock of recognizing him as royalty, apparently unafraid of him, despite their vastly different ranks.

“My prince,” she finally whispered. “You…are not supposed to be here?”

“No,” he stated. “I am exactly where I want to be.”

And, because he was unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and pulled her into him for a passionate kiss.

Clearly, she’d never been kissed before, and Ben found the very slight guilt over kissing his squire’s professed lady love disintegrate.

_She’s mine._

 

**The Dragon’s Tower…**

Rey perceived a monster before her, shaped like a man, a man she knew well, but monstrous nonetheless.

Here, in this nightmare place, he was even taller and broader through the chest and shoulders, with thickly pronounced veins glowing redly under his ghostly-pale skin. His arms hung loosely curled as if ready to snatch or grab anything within reach, hands clawed into fists.

His hair hung thick and lank past his overly-muscled neck and shoulders, waving like dark fire around him in a breeze, only there was no air in the tightly-restricted confines of the tower room. It was magic, she realized. Dark energy moved around and through him, lifting his hair...

His whole being emanated dark energy, defined by a reddishly-glowing crackle, like unbound electricity, circling languidly around him like an aura.

The only light from the room emanated from him and from the narrowly slotted window to one side, which let in more reddish light as if the entirety of outside was aflame.

He had many scars covering his chest, shoulders and an especially disturbing violent-looking red one running from his forehead, down his angular cheek, past his neck, and ending on his right pectoral muscle.

But Rey was arrested by his eyes most of all. The eyes of this creature before her _burned_. 

She had seen those eyes before. In a daydream. In a nightmare. She was sure of it.

He flexed his hands and she became distinctly aware of the size of him. He could tear her to pieces…and he looked violently angry...no gentleness mitigated the wrath flowing from him, and Rey knew then this beast wanted nothing more than to do just that.

Tear her to pieces.

“Ben…?” she begged as her bonds tightened until she could not even move her head. “What is this?”

He spoke again in that inhuman voice, and Rey redoubled her efforts to escape her bonds.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo...I was going to make this a series and re-tag, if needed. But you know what? You are big kids. I think you can handle it if I just continue on...
> 
> That being said. Mind the updated tags, my loves.
> 
> XOXO


	6. A Dream Remembered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Dragon's Tower, Rey remembers her dream from the previous weekend.

**_The Dragon’s Tower…_ **

“Ben…?” she begged as her bonds tightened until she could not even move her head. “What is this?”

“You wanted to see me…to admire your handiwork?” he inquired, slowly running a clawed finger down his face over the stripe of jagged scar that marred it. _“Behold. Your creation.”_

He spread his arms and bowed low, a mockery of deference, sarcastic and haughty, as her eyes raked over his beastly form, lingering on his hideous scars.

He watched her struggle before him. She was seething with anger and incomprehension and no small amount of fright as she glared furiously at him.

“ _My handiwork?_ What are you talking about?” she cried, straining against the invisible hold he kept on her.

_Remind her, then. I cannot hold back any longer._

He approached her, watching as her eyes widened in fright, and he spoke softly, “I’ve told you before… You don’t ever have to be afraid of me.”

He stroked her smooth cheek with a knuckle, noting abstractedly how she would have flinched away from his touch if she could move. “I wish I could say the same thing for myself about you, sweetheart…”

“What are you saying?” she gasped, as understanding dawned in her eyes. “I did that to you? When?”

Instead of answering aloud, he planted the memory of a moment they’d had earlier, at Maz’s, into her mind.

_“I remembered my dream. I know what you’ve done.” Rey told him, hoping to throw him off._

_He didn’t react at all. Not a blink. Not a twitch of the eyelid. Nothing._

_“I don’t think so,” he finally declared. “I think you’d be a lot more pissed off at me if you remembered what I did to you…”_

“Last weekend? In the dream you won’t let me remember? Why would I be pissed at you? Why would I do _that?_ ” she whispered, eyes traveling over the scar disfiguring him from forehead to chest.

“Oh, Rey. Not just this one. All of these are yours,” he murmured, snatching her hand from the bed and running it over the scars on his abdomen, hovering over her so he could drag it over his chest and shoulder, before resting it on his cheek. “See how you’ve marked me?”

“Those are all from…me?” A tear slid down her cheek and the sight of it almost killed him. She was _sorry_ for him.

“Does it … hurt?”

 _Yes. But only in this realm,_ he whispered into her mind. And the sight of her tears hurt him more. 

“Why won’t you let me remember, Ben? What happened last weekend?” she pleaded with him.

_I am trying to preserve your sanity, sweetheart. The longer you are awake in this realm, the harder it becomes for me to … temper the effects of the dark magic here…_

“That’s why you are angry with me right now? I’m making it more difficult for you to…”

_Keep you safe. This place is not meant for you._

“How long must we stay here? Can’t we go back…?”

_I am not going back there until they bring my whip. My Knights will inform me when it is time._

“Leia will never give it up. She told me a bit…about it,” Rey stated carefully, watching his reaction with concern.

He licked his lips, deliberating.

 _She knows something. What does she know?_ It was easier to take what he needed here …

He cocked his head and pulled the memory from her before considering the consequences.

_“…neither Luke nor I can reveal too much information to you. You are a huge target and a liability, especially if Ben believes you might have more…things that he’s looking for...”_

Her eyes flickered up to his at what he knew would be an uncomfortable awareness of his presence in her head.

 _You will not hurt her,_ he assured himself, hurriedly plunging back in, entering her mind as efficiently as he could, sifting through to pinpoint certain parts of Rey’s earlier conversation with his mother that evening.

_“…he’s looking for certain objects. Artifacts that anchor this realm to ours.”_

She moaned as he pressed harder, seeking more information…an incursion that was somehow more intimate than sex.

_“He’s rewriting…He can’t do it without one of the Texts.”_

“You told her I had a Text. Damn,” he spoke aloud, gritting his teeth.

He pushed more forcefully now, and it wasn’t hurting her, not really, even as she panted and arched from the unchecked assault of his consciousness invading hers.

_“The Texts were written before the beginning of time, and they outline the fates of all beings from our realm...they are tied to certain artifacts which can travel between realms and anchor our fates to mortals.”_

_“He said something about finally having a text and the Sandman made a mistake. And that he’d gotten to me before I pricked my finger.”_

_“Sleeping Beauty,” Leia muttered. “He’s already done it, then. Corrupted a storyline…Luke sent you here because you were supposed to kill him tonight…He must have tipped off Ben somehow, lured him here…”_

“I fucking knew it,” Kylo spat with more venom than he’d intended. Rey’s memories confirmed his suspicions that the Sandman was trying to tip the balance, rid this world of the Monster and reset the storyline before Kylo could find the anchors… But, they were too late. 

He was scaring her, and he was sorry for it, but it couldn’t be helped. She was beginning to thrash back and forth on the bed, sweat and tears dripping down her face. Still, though, he needed to know more. Best to get it over with.

_“If the timeline is corrupted…and if, simultaneously, the anchors, the artifacts, are all sent to the realm of dreams and stories…whoever controls them could conceivably tip the balance of order, overlapping the mortal world and…”_

Dammit. His mother knew more than he’d expected. No wonder she didn’t want him to have his whip.

He could feel the veins on his neck bulging with the effort it was taking him to simultaneously plunder her mind and withhold the dark energy of this nightmare place from overtaking her sanity.

He plunged back in, trying to go as quickly as possible, despite an overwhelming wish to linger.

_“So, when he came to me in my dream the other night…?”_

_“…if it corrupted the storyline …it makes the artifacts even more important…anchors between our realms…something for the storylines to return to each time we cycle through.”_

_“And Ben needs the whip to send things to the Underworld, so he can…?”_

“Just a little more,” he promised Rey. At this point, his memory charm on her was not going to hold, but he didn’t care.

She’d already seen the scars. She already knew he was a monster. Maybe it was best for her to know. Everything.

_“…ensure the artifacts are hidden and protected…to maintain a balance between Darkness and Light, life and death. It’s been attempted before – my father tried and failed to accomplish what Ben is now attempting – but, he never got so close…”_

_“He’ll go through the stories one by one until he gets the artifacts.”_

_“How many, um, of those are there?” Rey asked._

_“Less than a dozen, perhaps only six. Only the Jedi know for sure, and Luke is the only Jedi left who can tell… But he won’t say.”_

Kylo felt his enchantment disintegrate, just as he pulled away from her with extreme effort, chest heaving as he fought to stop himself from going on.

There was no sign of that _other memory_. It should be there, but it was gone. He knew now it had been cleanly sliced away with surgical precision. And not by him. 

Rey sobbed on the bed in front of him, and he wondered if she would let him try to console her...

He hesitated as she stared at him through teary eyes. No. She would not accept any comfort from him, now.

He had gotten what he’d needed, though. He knew Luke Skywalker was the only one who knew the location of the artifacts. And his mother had been charged with keeping his whip from him…

Any joy he might have felt from this latest gain in knowledge was quickly demolished as Rey looked at him with newfound horror. She’d seen things, too, while he’d been in her mind.

Things he had not ever intended for her to see.

For her sake, if not his.

****

**_A Dream Remembered: Last Friday Night_ **

She’d been shaking with fear, terrified and confused as he’d compelled her to touch the spindle.

He whispered into her mind. _Touch it. And you will see._

Elation surged into him when she picked up the knife from the table and pierced the tip of her finger with it.

_Finally. This is it. There is no turning back, now._

He stood before her and took her hand in his, the tantalizing drop of red on her finger drawing him like a lodestone.

Before she could stop him, he raised her hand to his mouth, and sucked the drop of blood away, rolling it over his tongue, savoring and tasting the essence of _her_ , the one whom he’d sought for so long…

The intoxicating flavor would have brought him to his knees if he hadn’t steeled himself against what he knew would be immediate, irresistible euphoria.

Their eyes locked, and just before he caught her limp form in his arms, he whispered, _“I’ll find you in your dreams. I’ll come for you, sweetheart. I promise.”_

He carried her to her room, and slipped into her dream, fully intending to find the single memory that would convince her to help him.

He entered her dream and found her asleep in a tower room, bright-white sunlight filtering through the slotted window on her left. A fresh breeze wafted through the air, smelling like flowers and forest and newly turned earth.

The bed was large and canopied, covered in fresh linens. The gray, stone walls displayed brightly-colored tapestries, further adding to the friendly warmth of the place.

But it was she who most captivated his attention. She rested calmly, hands clasped below the soft curve of her bosom, long hair spread over the pillows and threaded through with a crown of flowers. Her lashes fluttered as she dreamed, and she looked so peaceful and beautiful, his heart panged at the sight of her.

The contrast of her sweet innocence to his own harsh appearance disheartened him.

He knew he would appear to her as a monster and felt a momentary self-consciousness she might react badly at the sight of him, as she had recoiled in horror just moments ago, back in her living room, when he’d been revealed to her.

He hoped she would remain asleep, so he could explore her mind at will… This dream belonged to her, and he could not bind her as he could in his own.

This room held no shadows in which he might hide himself to attempt a stealthy exploration.

He held out a tentative hand, creeping into her thoughts as softly as he could.

Naturally, her being who she was, she woke almost immediately.

And just like that, her dream turned into a nightmare. And it was his fault. Of course.

Before she fully roused herself, he hurriedly examined and investigated her mind, at first a targeted assault, then a more ruthless barrage...

But the memory was not there. Not that he could find. It did not exist, and he found himself perplexed.

By now, she was sitting up in her bed, staring at him in revulsion and screeching like a banshee.

He wanted nothing more than to continue his search for that particular memory of hers.

He _knew_ it existed…

But at the moment, she was scrambling off the bed, looking for an exit…she would run from him…

His heart broke just a bit. She always ran. Every time.

Only this time, he was prepared.

“You can’t leave.” He kept his voice as gentle as he could, so as not to frighten her further. But there was no way he was letting her go. No fucking way. He was too close.

“Where am I?” she shouted, running to the narrow window as if she might escape through it.

“Your dream. The Dragon’s Tower…” he murmured. “Guarded by…me…”

She whirled back from the window, and her eyes raked over him again, noting his terrifying appearance.

He knew what he looked like. A monster. He’d played this role so many times over, he was sure he’d be immune to the reaction of people flinching away in horror at their first glimpse of him…but he wasn’t. Not with her. 

It hurt him more than he would have liked to admit. 

“Rey. It’s just me,” he growled.

She shook her head in disbelief.

“Rey! Stop it. It’s just me. You know me. We’ve met before…” he tried to convince her, but she shook her head more frantically, now.

“It’s time to let old things die. It’s time to rewrite the story. Kill the past. I need you to help me,” he coaxed.

“I’m not helping you with anything,” she vowed, and her eyes sparkled with danger. _Shit. She is going to fight me._

This was the worst part of entering dreams of particularly strong-minded people. They usually quickly figured out they were in charge once they lost their fear of him.

“You’ll help me. Whether you want to or not,” he swore, thunderously loud, now. He would not hurt her. But he needed her just a little afraid of him. He needed to get back in…and make sure…make sure it really wasn't in there. 

He stepped away from the wall where he’d been hovering, trying for physical intimidation, which he knew he would have in spades right now, in his monster's form.

“What were you doing to me just now?” she hissed at him.

_Fucking hell. Just tell her. You can wipe this from her mind later if things get too crazy._

“I was looking for a memory of yours,” he admitted, keeping his voice low.

“Why?”

“Because. If I have it, I can… I need you to remember something.” 

“What am I supposed to remember?” she demanded coolly.

He didn’t want to say.

After all the time and torment he’d endured to find her. After everything he’d given up, sacrificed and done.

After he’d willingly sold himself to the darkest of dark mages for nearly unlimited power, in exchange for this very moment…

He didn’t have the fucking courage to tell her.

He was afraid.

What if it hadn’t been real?

What if they’d never really fallen in love?

 

This was a dream.

 _Her_ dream. She owned it. And she would rule it.

“You. You’re afraid.” She spoke to the creature before her.

The beast before her had a form like a man, but was huge and brutishly muscled, almost more animal than human.

Dark red veins fluxed with sinister power, grotesquely snaking and pulsing around his naked chest and arms. His hair, black as night, waved in the air, thick tendrils lifted and floated around his head by supernatural energy, by the aura that crackled around him with menacing heat.

His burning eyes were twin pits into bottomless Hell.

She’d seen this creature before. What had he told her the other night?

_“I move between the realm of the living and those who sleep… I am… not of this world. And neither are you. And it is time for you to REMEMBER. We’ve met before.”_

“Rey,” he started to speak. She held up her hand, silently commanding him to silence himself. He stopped, scowling at her.

_“I’ve been trapped here, reliving this fucking hell over and over and over again. I… want to be free of this pain.”_

“You think I have something. But I know for a fact I don’t. So you should leave,” she demanded, bristling at him.

He merely shook his head. They weren’t going anywhere until he got what he wanted.

_“It’s because I know you. I know your fantasies and your darkest desires…”_

“You know me. Why would I lie?” she spat. He did know her fantasies. They’d re-enacted a few last week… She tried to focus on the problem at hand, rather than the overlarge bulge at the front of his trousers.

_Fuck. He’s huge._

His body in this realm retained vestiges of him, the same handsome face and full lips, the same bulkily filled-out frame, the same smoldering eyes. But it was all somehow _exaggerated_ in this place.

Here, he appeared bigger than usual, which was saying something. He radiated a heat she could feel from across the room, as if the fires of Hell fueled his blood and could not be constrained.

This radiant heat undulated like slow fire before her eyes, as if she could see into him, as if she could trace his veins from the glow of dark energy pulsating through and around him…

The red and the heat and the faint hostility combined with an exaggerated sexual energy, too.

She found herself both frightened and seduced by it.

Rey realized this creature, Ben, was not in his – what had he called it? – _benign mortal guise_ …

He grinned mischievously at her, and her stomach clenched, whether from fear or lust she did not know. His teeth were startlingly white against his full, red lips.

Those teeth looked fang-sharp…

She fought herself from shivering visibly, sure it would further inflame whatever he was doing to inundate the atmosphere with his lustful intentions…

Lightning-fast he lifted a hand, and she felt a strange intrusion – the same sensation she’d had when she’d awoken to this place, only stronger.

An infiltration into her consciousness.

He was trying to break into her mind.

A torpid awareness drenched the air, and it so distracted her she did not fight him when those lips of his curled over his teeth as he twisted his hand in midair, attempting to penetrate her thoughts.

The sensation of him pushing into her like that…it was like sex, only disturbingly more _personal_.

Rather than let his offensive frighten her, however, she lifted her own hand and returned the sensation, pushing it back into him with all her considerable willpower.

He recoiled slightly as she began to see things. Horrible things. Things that did not belong to her.

Visions from wars in faraway lands, places she knew did not exist, death and destruction on such a scale as to be apocalyptic.

Darkness. Black magic. Evil. 

He snarled and pushed harder, even as he attempted to block her counterattack. Under the renewed efforts of his onslaught, she realized he was a master at this, whatever it was, and she would not be able to maintain her efforts for long.

But this was _her_ dream. Not his.

This beast would not rule her here.

So, she plucked a thought from him as easily as picking a berry from a bush and imagined a hot poker stabbing into his shoulder.

The dark power that flowed through her was addictive. Like morphine.

He roared as a red burn appeared on his left shoulder, exactly where she’d imagined it.

Wicked tendrils of power snapped through the air and crackled between them.

_It. Was. Glorious._

He lowered his hand and smiled ruefully at her.

“Oh, damn, girl. You’re a quick learner.”

Her blood pumped hotly through her veins like liquid fire. She understood him perfectly.

She lowered her hand, as well.

_He’s going to try for more._

_Let’s dance, then, Devil._

It was only a dream, after all.

“You like that, don’t you, sweetheart? I can give you more…teach you how to control it…” he tempted as he stepped forward.

But he’d already given her something. Something had traded between them when he’d ruthlessly combed through her thoughts.

She wanted more. But she would take it for herself.

“I don’t need a teacher,” she taunted. He simply returned her statement with a mocking half-smile that set her teeth on edge.

They circled each other, and Rey allowed whatever power had swirled through her to take rein again. The light in the room dimmed, darkening to a sinister orange-red.

Oh, fuck, it was arousing. Beyond arousing.

He prowled restlessly in front of her, head hanging as he glowered knowingly at her from under his dark brows, his eyes fathomless black holes, sucking her in against her will.

He probed at her mind in unexpected barrages, a faint sneer on his lips. Each time he tried it, she imagined a lash or a blade or a searing-hot iron pushing back at him.

Before long, his bulky torso was covered in cuts, scratches, and burns.

She licked her lips hungrily at the sight, dark power scything through her with such ferocity she let out a savage growl.

The tower shook and groaned, and Rey watched a large crack appear in the wall behind him.

Still, he persisted with his imperturbable forays, and Rey grasped he was attempting to weaken her. _Death by a thousand cuts, or some similar battle tactic_ , she understood.

Each time he pressed in, she glimpsed more of him, although she sensed he was doing his best to keep her from seeing the worst of it.

But he would not stop.

He was recklessly determined, frantic to find something that did not exist in her mind.

The harder he tried, the more violent her reactions became, until finally, with an aggressive snarl, teeth bared, eyes wild, he threw everything he had at her, attaching himself to her mind like a leech, not letting go, no matter what she did.

She hesitated, for just a half-second, panting for breath when she heard him.

_You let me in. I’m not leaving._

She panicked and fell back, just enough for him to more firmly implant himself, searching hungrily for something she knew was not there.

He crawled greedily through her thoughts and memories, exploring with meticulous diligence.

She could feel his frustration and his own blooming panic as he realized he was exchanging knowledge with her. Knowledge she should not possess.

Still, he did not stop, and she gave over to him, falling back against the wall on the other side of the room…

She was learning, now, gaining, taking from him as he was from her…drinking it in with greedy swallows of want, and oh, the potency of it filled her until she wanted to scream.

And then…

She saw herself in his memory. From a place she did not recognize.

_Long hair._

_A peasant’s garb._

_A slender hand outstretched, clasping his much larger, gloved one._

He tried to tug away from her, but now she pulled eagerly, aggressively.

He could not loosen her grip on him.

_A sun-speckled clearing._

_A kiss._

_Her first kiss, he could tell._

_He lay down his thick, blood-red cape, and they lay in the grass…laughing like naughty children while he missed his wedding._

_They lay there on his cape, in the sunny clearing for hours, talking of everything and nothing. They could not take their eyes off each other._

_He wanted her. He kissed her again, careful not to frighten her with his size, with the full force of his desire._

_But she was so warm and soft and beautiful._

_When his kisses grew too passionate, she breathlessly stopped him…_

_She reminded him of his duty. She fretted at the trouble they would have caused this day._

_Guilt swamped through him._

_She was right, and yet._

_“What if there was a way…for us?” he inquired._

_“In a different world, maybe…” she murmured sorrowfully, running a hand through his hair. He captured her hand in his, and kissed her palm, pressing it to his face._

_“Then I will find it. I will find a way…I promise,” he murmured, soaking in her every expression._

_“You shouldn’t be here…You should go.” But the look on her face told him it was the last thing she wanted._

_“Meet me again?” he asked. “Please?”_

_“All right…but, my Prince, what about -?”_

_He shook his head and kissed her pert nose. “I said I will find a way. And I will. My promise to you. And so you know I mean it… will you hold some treasured possessions for me?”_

_His heart leapt as she nodded in agreement. He would give her the bride gifts intended for his betrothed as a ransom for his return._

“Rey. Stop. Please…” Kylo pled weakly.

_He kissed her again and the sweet taste of her made him ache. When her tongue tentatively swept against his, he trembled like a fevered man._

_He wanted her._

_The kingdom could burn over this. His family would probably strip him of his titles and disown him._

_He very probably would cause war and strife throughout the realm._

_He didn’t care. He would find a way._

“Please don’t do this, Rey,” Kylo begged more urgently. “Let it go…”

But she merely stepped on from that place to another, fascinated and unwilling to give up her hold on him.

_Time had passed. They continued to meet in secret. It was becoming more difficult for him to control his desire for her, but he'd promised her they would wait until he'd found a way..._

_He had become an apprentice to a powerful mage. He had not told a soul. He would keep his secret, for now._

_But the dark magic he was learning… it could be used to change things. He could do what his grandfather had attempted. He could change his destiny._

_Only he would be more powerful than his grandfather had ever been. Why did nobody understand how the Darkwalkers simply wanted the same thing as the Skywalkers_

_He could finally direct his own fate._

_He could become so powerful…for her…_

“Ben. What have you done?” she whispered, unblinking eyes locked on his.

The tower room trembled and shook with the force of an earthquake, the stone walls cracking and crumbling, letting red light stream through from outside.

They were destroying it. She was destroying it. But she could not stop herself from sucking in a giant gasp of sizzling energy that poured through the newly-forged gaps in the walls.

It went on and on. It could well have lasted for days, although Rey knew time had no meaning here, in this place…

_A twisted creature sat upon a throne in a hellish place. His master._

The creature spoke, and she tried to comprehend the language, but when Kylo saw it, he pulled a curtain down with everything he had…

He drew closer until he stood directly in front of her, eyes locked on hers in bewilderment, still seeking…

_It’s not there it’s not there not there not there._

But she turned it back on him, forcing him to show her, show her everything. _This is my dream. I can do whatever I want._

She moved to pull the curtain in his mind aside.

 _NO!_ he shouted in her head. _Don’t!_

She saw through his eyes and felt the soul-ripping pain he’d felt when he’d made a trade…for the Text, she realized. 

Excruciating pain wrenched through her, as his memories of that moment crushed into her unexpectedly. 

She did scream, then, until her throat was raw from it. Until her mind was blistered from it. 

For the briefest of seconds, she saw herself through his eyes.

The raw emotion there was…too much.

Her knees shook, and her breath stopped and her whole body shuddered with the overpowering force of it. He was not unaffected by this. His massive arms braced on either side of her head, huge heated body caging her against the cool stones of the tower wall.

He ducked his chin, mouth slightly agape, unable to detach his gaze, lost in her.  

She weakly considered extracting herself. But they were both caught in the grip of his memories now, and she wasn’t sure she could.

One more. One more. 

_He’d left, promising to return the next day. He had to tell his parents, at least. They were taking so much political damage from his earlier behavior, and they at least deserved to know the truth._

_But when he’d gone to speak to his parents, they had already left the city in a final bid to prevent war._

_And when he’d returned to meet her, she had simply vanished without a trace. Not a sign…As if she had never existed. And she’d taken the bride gifts with her. Objects of such immense value, he could barely fathom it._

_His fury had been…unbelievable._

_His newly acquired dark magic flowed through him, uncontrolled, and he destroyed everything under his hands, scorching everything with furnace-hot rage._

_It was good she hadn’t been there, he thought irrationally – temporarily forgetting he would not have been so enraged had she been there waiting for him – he would have torn her faithless heart from her chest._

_She was his._

 

She couldn’t help but lash out at that last, as viciously as she could.

It was too much, and she didn’t know how to stop it.

She pulled her knife from the air, as easily as he had done many times before, and she sliced a wicked stroke from the top of his brow, down his face, until it ended in a violent red line over his right pectoral muscle.

He looked at her as if he’d never seen her before, throwing a shocked hand to his injury.

It happened so fast, his exit from her mind, she would have dropped to the ground, had he not been braced against her.

And she finally understood he would pull down the foundations of the universe itself to have her with him.

Forever.

He wanted her. He wanted her, and he'd been murderously furious with her, and – oh, shit! – she’d hurt him. Her lips trembled with an upspoken apology. 

He stood so close to her, his sweltering body heat made her sweat.

“We’ve met before,” she stated, trailing a finger down the injury on his face. The heat. The ravenous look in his eyes. 

He nodded.

“You were – are – so angry with me…” she stated again, shivering from the shock of everything she’d seen and done.

He nodded again, peering at her through heavily-lidded eyes.

“Am I going insane?”

He shook his head. His vast chest heaved with the heavy toll of the last moments.

“Why don’t you just…take whatever you want?” she whispered. It was not a flirtatious query, nor was the question an invitation. She really wanted to know why. “What’s stopping you?”

“Just you,” he murmured, wrapping her hair around a clawed fist to arch her against him and lower his heated lips to hers. 

 

The room had become a veritable hellscape when they had destroyed it in their battle to overtake each other’s memories.

Kylo wasn’t sure who had won, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve, yet.

He was very sure she’d taken way too much from him… Part of him was excited by how quickly she’d gone to the darkest of defenses…that she’d matched him and ravaged him.

She’d ruthlessly sliced his face open, not to mention the other injuries she’d inflicted… She had been magnificent in the throes of dark power.

He wondered how much of that was from his own darkness bleeding into her when he’d foraged through her mind.

If this whole nightmare didn’t qualify as the corruption he needed to twist the storyline…well, he didn’t know what would…

_Sleeping Beauty wakes herself up…vanquishes the dragon…becomes a monster herself…_

Yes. He’d sullied that archetype enough to render it null.

He was certain.

But just in case...

He was going to make good and sure she was completely…defiled. He hoped she would cooperate. By the way she returned his kiss, he was sure she would...

He tightened his grip on her hair and slanted his lips over hers, telling her exactly what he intended as explicitly as he could. 

He needed to rewrite this. And now was the time to do it.

He would definitely have to wipe this memory from her.

There was no fucking way he was letting her back into the mortal world with the knowledge she had. Or knowing what he was about to do to her…

No. Fucking. Way.

 

**The Dragon’s Tower…**

When he’d pushed into her mind, looking for information, brief glimpses of _him_ had brushed against her consciousness. Visions of horrible things she wished she could unsee. Dreadful things he’d gone through, willingly, over and over, in his frantic search for her.

_"A thousand, thousand times, this story has been told. And a thousand, thousand times you’ve been tempted… and I’ve come sooo close… but you always run, and he always hides you. You can’t hide from me this time…”_

She’d _seen_ it. His fear. His wretched hopelessness. Endless wells of loneliness, despair.

For an instant, she’d not just seen into his mind. She’d _felt_ him. Nudging at her from the darkest shadows, pathetic and defenseless, pushing her away like a weak, wounded animal defending its den.

Especially at the end. Right before she'd sliced his face open.

That had been the worst of all, seeing his memory of falling in love with her, and his sure belief she’d loved him, too, once upon a time.

The harder he pushed, the more she saw, until, like a waterfall, everything came tumbling into her brain, all at once.

And she realized just how much darkness he’d been holding back, shielding her from it with an enormous force of will.

He hadn’t stopped his desperate search until she felt a collapse of sorts. When the charm withholding her memory of last weekend shattered like broken glass.

At the end of his invasion, something disintegrated, dissolved, and she remembered every detail of her dream from the last weekend with crystal clarity.

For once, she wished she could forget it.

As perfect awareness flashed between them, gasping and sweating from the shared moment, waves of pain washed over her as they stared at each other in mutual desolation.

She’d done something so bad, so vile… He’d been at his weakest, most vulnerable. And she’d _attacked_ him.

True, he was no angel. He’d definitely provoked her.

But, what she’d done? Using dark magic? And then. After that...

…when they’d…

Which was why they could not go back to that place. Ever again.

It had been corrupted. Defiled. By both of them.

 

His Knight called him back, just as he watched horrified realization dawn on her face…

She’d remembered everything, then.

Not the _thing_ he’d been hoping for her to remember. No. That was somehow gone, an empty void where the memory should be.

She'd remembered her dream from last weekend. _Damn._ Damn, he had some explaining to do, and it would be near impossible now, without that other memory…

His Knight called him again, and without preamble, he wrapped his beastlike arms around her before she could protest and pulled them together back to the mortal realm.

Although he’d vowed to leave her there, he couldn’t.

Leaving her alone in his nightmare would have destroyed her.

Still, as they materialized in the same place where they’d disappeared, right near the pool table in the barroom of Maz’s Cantina, Rey remained knocked out and would be for the next few minutes until her physical form caught up with the magic he'd used to bring them back.

When she woke, Kylo knew she would remember last weekend with perfect clarity, and he knew she would probably be furious with him. But, he couldn’t go back and make her forget again. He didn’t have time.

Kylo carried her to the couch, listening to what sounded like shouting outside.

Only one Knight remained inside, standing over Maz Kanata with the broken bottle he’d used earlier to slice his finger open.

“Hey, Maz. I hope you have good news for me,” Kylo grunted, carefully lowering Rey to the plaid sofa.

“You _Beast_!” Maz bellowed at him fearlessly. “What did you do to her?”

“She’s fine. Where is it?” Kylo wanted his whip.

He’d been bluffing when he’d threatened to leave Rey in his nightmare forever.

He had _not_ been bluffing when he’d promised to rain down fire and brimstone on this place if his whip wasn’t waiting for him when he returned.

“Outside. With Luke.”

He bit off a curse. _Fucking Sandman._ That was a complication he did not need at the moment.

“Maz. Keep an eye on Rey for me.” He silently commanded his Knight to follow him outside.

Kylo stalked out the doors of the bar and quickly evaluated the scene before him.

Luke Skywalker and the two rescuers who had appeared earlier stood in the middle of the road in front of the bar.

And Luke was holding something Kylo wanted. Something he wanted very badly.

Five of Kylo’s Knights had formed a defensive line in front of the bar, facing down the three in the street.

Kylo sauntered around to stand in front of them. If Luke Skywalker wanted a standoff, he was in for a world of hurt.

He briefly glanced over the two men standing just behind Luke, noting they were both heavily armed. The dark-skinned young man who had shouted to Rey earlier held a flame-thrower.

_Oh. Really?_

Kylo’s mouth twisted into a sinister grin at the sight. He fucking _loved_ to play with fire…

His attention snapped back to Luke and the whip.

“Ben. Where’s Rey?” Luke asked, his blue eyes wells of concern. And reproach. As if, after everything Luke had done, he had the right to reprimand Kylo.

“Give me my whip, Sandman, and you can have her,” Kylo lied with a sneer. There was no fucking way he was letting her go.

The young man holding the flame-thrower stepped forward threateningly. _Holy shit._ It was Finn, his former squire, Kylo realized with a bit of shock.

 _This kid has no fucking idea who I am,_ Kylo thought, vaguely impressed. _Isn’t that interesting?_

Luke held up a hand, sensing Finn’s impatience.

“Ben. Don’t do this.” Luke tried to sound convincing.

“That is not my name anymore, _Sandman_ ,” Kylo bit out, his eyes glittering with lust at the whip Luke held. “That belongs to me.” Kylo jabbed a finger at his whip. “Toss it here, and I’ll let you all go…”

“I know what you are trying to do, Ben. It won’t work…” Luke continued smoothly, unruffled at the feral light in his nephew’s eyes. “Let me see that Rey is all right.”

“She’s fine. Fuck. It’s almost like you don’t trust me, _Uncle_ ,” Kylo muttered sarcastically.

Luke tilted his head and Finn stepped forward again. This time it was Finn who spoke. “Give her to us, creep! Or I’ll light you up like a Christmas tree.”

Finn flicked a switch on the flame-thrower and Kylo grinned at him. He cracked his neck, a slow, deliberate gesture meant to signal _bring it on_.

“You’re going to need more than that thing to take me out,” Kylo vowed. “Like a fucking anti-aircraft missile...maybe...”

The other man, dark-haired and handsome, pointed his very large gun at Kylo’s chest, glaring at him menacingly. Kylo ignored him.

“Last warning. Give me my whip, or I’ll _take_ it. And send you to the Underworld… _finally_ ,” he hissed belligerently, directing his last statement to Luke.  

They should not be provoking him like this…they had no idea what he could do here. What he could _become_ …now that the storyline was corrupted, how he could slip into any monster’s role with ease…

If they were going to fight with fire, so would he.

Kylo allowed a stream of dark magic to pour into him. The raw energy of it pulsed around him, flooding his senses with power and wrath. He felt the ends of his hair stand up from his scalp.

Luke blinked in panic and held up a hand. “Ben, no!”

But Kylo’s Knights were already shuffling back to make room as if they knew what was coming…

 _Block the back exit from the bar_ , Kylo told three of them, not watching to see if his command was obeyed. It would be.

Luke stepped forward and set the whip on the ground between them before standing, arms outstretched in surrender.

_You’re so fucking obvious, Sandman. Like I’m going to walk over there and pick it up, so your friends can unleash their weapons on me?_

“Back away,” Kylo told his uncle, even as he ordered a Knight to retrieve his whip for him.

She immediately obeyed, snatching it up with a nasty smirk at Luke, before tossing it to her Master.

And then…

 _Oh FUCK, fuck, fuuuuuck, yessssss_.

He caught his whip effortlessly and unfurled it in a whirl of fire and flame, flinging a circle of demon-red energy around himself as his Knights ran for cover.

Dark laughter boiled up from inside him. The ground quaked and cracked under his feet.

Everything happened at once, but it was not unexpected.

Finn activated the flamethrower, spewing fire at Kylo, and the man behind Luke unleashed a hail of automatic bullets, spraying them at Kylo in a barrage of noise.

But nothing could cross the glowing red line he’d drawn with his whip…

And Kylo, drawing upon the blackest of magics, filled himself with the darkest powers in the universe…

...to _become_ the thing he knew Luke feared most of all…

_And now you’re going to feel what true fire is…_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who may be worried about Rey asleep on the couch, don't be - next chapter we will get the rest of her dream...and then...ohhhhh.


	7. Devil's Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still asleep on the couch at Maz's, Rey remembers the rest of her dream from last weekend...
> 
> Monster sex commencing in three...two...one…

**A Dream Remembered…**

His huge, clawed hand wrapped firmly around her hair, anchoring her to him so he could plunder her mouth at will.

She discerned a tentative touch, a careful overture, as his consciousness brushed against hers. After everything that had just transpired between them, the touch of his mind was pressure on a bruise, a dull ache that faded as tendrils of thought filtered between them.

He’d thrown the full force of his power at her, and she’d taken it, she’d turned it and used it, even as he’d taken from and used her. She’d sipped from the cup of darkness, tasted _him_ , and she burned for more…

His plush lips – a startling contrast to the hard lines and rough textures of his massive beast’s form – became unyielding, forceful, as he violently pushed his tongue into her mouth, a simulation of sex so transparent and erotic, her womb clenched, and she melted against him.

But he would not broach beyond a certain point, and she grew frustrated as she returned his kiss with increasing abandon.

This was her dream, and she desperately wanted him to transport her back to that place…to once again unleash that sweeping, all-consuming fire through her veins and sate the passion forged between them when they’d engaged each other in a battle of wills just minutes ago…

Why would he not just take it again, push his way in as he had before? She knew he wanted to, to overwhelm and devour her. She could see hazy thoughts of it, fleeting through his ravenous mind, and she could feel in the trembling of his naked arms and chest how rigidly he held himself in check.

“Why?” she murmured against his lips, knowing he understood her question perfectly.

_I can’t just take it, Rey. I need you to give it to me. There’s a difference._

She swallowed as she felt his further retreat, even as he nuzzled the spot on her neck, bending his huge form to ravish her mouth, clutching her to his chest as she bent pliantly in his arms.

She knew what he meant and the implications of it. He expected complete surrender from this point forward if they were to journey back into that landscape of dark passion and explore it in its entirety.

He required nothing less than her full willingness to let him…do whatever he wanted.

She was not afraid, knowing with all surety he did not want to hurt her. Rather, she sensed he wanted to…to _be_ with her. To _meld_ with her in every possible way two beings could do so.

Their earlier exchange had been fundamentally _wrong_ , a desecration of sorts. Rey could still perceive the knowledge she’d extracted from him, the vile magics and torment and horrible destruction residing in him…but the merging with his psyche had felt…so delectably _good_.

She wanted more.

He’d withdrawn mentally, although he continued to hold her arched against him while swirling a warm, wet tongue over her ear and lightly sinking sharp teeth against the side of her neck; and, she already _missed_ him, even in the few minutes in his absence, and she yearned for his return. For that sense of unity. Completeness.

His thickly muscled arms wrapped around her and the wicked lusciousness of it, the animal craving he awakened, overrode her moral hesitation.

Ever-sensitive to even her most microscopic reactions, he paused, lightly prodding at the door of her mind. A question. Unspoken, but clear as day.

_Now. Do you_ really _wanna play Dark Side with me?_

Did she really want to? She sensed a similar hesitation from the first time he’d asked that question, but this time she knew how badly he wanted her to say _yes_ …

Her eyes roamed over his beastly form, and she was struck anew at how big he was here, how _different_ it would feel to let him in…

Torrid breath fanning over her skin made all the fine hairs at the back of her neck stand on end. Open yearning blazed from his hypnotically glowing eyes as he tilted his head to meet her gaze.

_I’ll make you feel so good. I promise…_

And she gave into temptation with a whispered, “Yes.”

She did not need to see the victorious curl of his lips to know how pleased he was with her reply. But the sight of naked triumph on his face nevertheless gave her heart a stutter and melting desire pooled between her legs.

Sinister, static energy crackled in the air between them and webbed from his skin onto hers, making her veins glow red wherever he touched her. It alarmed her just slightly, but not enough to make him stop.

“Mmmm, fuck you taste so good,” he muttered against her neck as he swept his heated tongue over her pulse. “Your flavor…it weakens me… intoxicates me…”

He inhaled deeply as if to breathe her in, and she did the same against his neck, growing uncomfortably aroused at his scent, feral and masculine, lightly underscored with a tang of black licorice and a hint of diesel.

She could only cling bonelessly to his hot, burly shoulders as his tongue rasped against her sensitive flesh, enthralled at knowing just how divine he found her _essence_.  

She knew what he wanted – it was so wrong – and yet she could not resist.

Their minds were bridged. He was in and he wasn’t leaving. Not just yet. Not until he’d consumed every piece of her…

She saw his intentions an instant before he snatched up her hand, and then – _oh, damn!_ – he drew her finger into his mouth, the one she’d poked with the knife earlier, and sucked on it so hard, the wound reopened.

This was so wrong. He should not be doing it. She’d roamed through his mind, and she knew he planned to perform magic of the very basest kind – melding two souls with a blood bond that could not be broken.

The magic itself could drive a person insane. It could drive _her_ insane.

_Don’t be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you. I … can’t hurt you._

Her finger hurt and throbbed, but the look in his eyes, as if nothing would ever satisfy him but the taste of her, that was pure pleasure, overriding the sting.

His eyes seared into hers, endless black pools of lust. His wicked gaze transfixed her, the way his cheeks hollowed with each sucking pull, the sensation of his tongue tenderly wrapping around her finger like a lover’s, lethally sharp teeth nibbling gently at the torn flesh…

But this was no innocent suitor offering a chaste caress. He was a monster and a wielder of black magic, and Rey knew this was but a prelude to a very dark and treacherous act.

He groaned, agonized in the decadence of _consuming_ her, and sucked a drop of blood, then another, until her body tightened and trembled to the rhythm of his heated, drawing mouth, demanding more as their mutual pleasure escalated. Until she couldn’t stand, until her knees bent and buckled, and he caught her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

_You have to do whatever I say..._

_…all right…_

_I mean it, Rey. Whatever I tell you to do. You’d better fucking do it. This is dangerous, what we’re doing…_

_…I will…_

His eyes glittered at her willing reply.

_Lie back on the bed._

She lay back, obediently. Eagerly. She sensed his anticipation, clawing at the edges of his resolve and it excited her. She glanced at the bulge in his trousers and arched a brow at him.

_Soon enough, sweetheart. We are really going to have to get you ready to take me…or it’s gonna hurt like hell…_

He stripped off his trousers and she saw what he meant.

If his dick was big in the mortal realm, then here… _oh, fuck_.

Her heart started pounding as she observed his erection, thick and red, ridged with veins all the way up to the broad, red, silky-smooth head. It looked so aggressively masculine as it rose proudly from a thatch of wiry black hair at his groin to bob readily against his muscled abdomen… a flutter of nervousness erupted in her belly.

There was no fucking way that was going to fit inside her. Her eyes flashed to his and he gave her a ruthless smile.

_Whatever I say…You’re going to take all of it…and you’re going to love every minute of it…_

He crawled on top of her and the heat of him seared into her skin. He was burning-hot and heavy as he straddled her thighs.

“Put your arms up,” he commanded pitilessly.

She lifted her arms over her head.

“You are not allowed to move unless I tell you to. No matter what I do next. Do you understand me?” he growled into her ear.

A tremor of fear sank into her. What was he going to do?

“I. Said. Do you fucking understand me?” he snarled, gripping her face and forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes glinted with leashed power, glowing with unholy light in the shadowed room.

“Yes,” she whispered, wide-eyed at his terrifying visage scowling at her. _Oh shit! What -?_

He swept in on a wind of passion, and at her lack of resistance, he was everywhere, all at once.

The dark energy pulsing around him bloomed into a miasma of red and purple and black, entwining like a dense fog around them both as he pushed her back onto the bed and drew a clawed finger down the front of her gown.

At his touch, the fabric dissolved, leaving her bare and exposed, sprawled before him like an offering on an altar.

_I’m going to fucking desecrate you, body and soul. There’s no turning back from this._

His hair-dusted skin roughly scraped against hers and she gasped as his heated erection brushed against her thigh. She felt the moisture leaking from the tip of him drip over her sensitive flesh and an overwhelming need to savor it rushed through her…

_Taste me, then,_ he ordered, crawling up over her until his knees were on either side of her ribcage, and his flushed cock swung in front of her face. She could smell the musky scent of him and felt herself growing impossibly wet.

He braced an arm into the bed over her head and guided himself with one hand into her open, eager mouth, and she stretched her lips around the head of him and sucked and licked until he shuddered and groaned at the luxurious carnality of it.

Deep, clenching aches pulsed through her body, making her sex swell and drip with longing, and, oh, how she _wanted_.

She stroked her tongue against the ridged underside of him, sucking harder until he groaned loudly, and she felt him in her mind, ecstatically approving.

He braced himself over her, lost in the thrall of darkness that whirled around them like fire, now. She continued to lave and suck on him until she sensed his control slipping and he pulled out of her mouth with a soft pop. They both moaned at the loss of pressure, but he crawled back down until he hovered between her legs, still trapping her beneath his straddling thighs.

He lowered his weight onto her, crushing and so scorching-hot she was going to melt into the bed, but she welcomed it. A pleading gasp escaped her lips and he rewarded it with a torrid kiss, consuming her so completely she lost all sense of self as their breath blended and their thoughts mingled.

His skin burned, fever-hot against hers, dark energy whispering off him and sinking into her pores. His hands clawed into her scalp, igniting her desire to touch him…

_Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart._

Her head fell back as she felt the smooth pressure of him rubbing against her belly, his body quivering with restrained lust. It took her breath away, knowing how much control he was exercising over his rampant appetite.

He licked a trail of fire from her neck to her navel, clawed hands digging into her ribs as he rasped his tongue over the flat plane of her abdomen before moving to her breasts.

He sucked a rosy, pebbled nipple into his mouth and she felt the pull of it all the way down, deep inside, between her legs, forcing a needy moan out of her.

_Tell me you want this._

_I do! I want it._

His teeth sank into her, sharp and deadly, just hard enough to leave a mark on the side of her breast. A tiny drop of blood rose up and he licked it away, loverlike, causing her to cry out and bring her arms down. It stung, but oh, fuck, she wanted to scream with the exquisite pleasure he brought forth.

She gripped his hair and arched her hips mindlessly...he lifted his head...

She’d moved and he hadn’t given her permission, and slight fear welled in her at the lethal gleam in his eye.

He wrapped a huge clawed hand around both of hers and pinned them over her head.

“I said don’t move unless I told you to…” He sounded furious.

“I’m…sorry?” she whispered, a little rebelliously.

“If you distract me, I might really…do some damage, Rey. You can’t…fuck!” he rasped as she freed her hands from his grasp.

_This is my dream. You can’t hurt me._

She plunged her fingers into his hair, reveling in the silky softness, the way it crackled with static-like energy under her fingertips.

She knew he liked it, she could sense his control slip a notch, and she didn’t care, heedless of his warning. He thought he could hurt her. But she knew that would not be possible. Not here, in this place.

_I want you – I want to touch you and feel you – just…please!_

He gave in almost immediately, flipping them over until she straddled him, legs spread impossibly wide at the breadth of him.

He gently held her hips, claws sinking into the soft skin of her hips as she tentatively brushed her breasts against the enormous slabs of muscle on his chest.

She leaned in to tangle her tongue with his, wanting to taste him the way he’d tasted her…he heard her wish and kissed her voraciously in fervent acquiescence.

_…can I?..._

_Do it, then. Taste me, sweetheart._

At his invitation, she pushed him back until he leaned on his elbows. It surprised her, how quickly he seemed to understand what she wanted.

Maybe not such a surprise. Their thoughts flowed between them on a thread, pulling them tighter, snapping them closer until words were no longer necessary.

The heat rolling off him made her so wet, she felt the evidence of her desire dripping over him as she rubbed against his straining, rigid length.

He trembled and moaned, eyes roving over her as she rubbed herself against him. Hesitant, but so spellbound in their merged consciousness, she eyed the wound on his chest and slowly licked her tongue over it.

His reaction was instantaneous and both of them welled with power as she discerned the dusky, potent taste of _him_. He threw back his head and hissed through his teeth as her small hands gripped his shoulders, now eagerly feasting on his essence and the magic flowing between them.

_Mmmm. You like that, don’t you? The way I taste?_

This was beyond addictive. Rey knew she should stop, but she could not. And he would not try to make her stop…he wanted this. He was lost in this, and she sensed his tightly-leashed control slipping from him…

It was so fucking good. He tasted of darkness and shadow and unchecked power and lust and sex and blood…and he was powerless to stop her…

The pulsing in his veins grew stronger as she licked her way up to his jaw, drinking in the taste of him, feeling how his injury sizzled and sealed itself as she ran her tongue over it.

The potency of making this monster feel weak and helpless made her shudder and gasp.

_I marked you._ She reveled in the knowledge, black magic swirling through her in twisting tendrils of wicked authority _._

_As I will mark you,_ he vowed. And at those ominous words, something in him unraveled, the restraint he’d been gripping loosened further.

He sat up, forcing her to clutch his shoulders.

“I am going to fucking _saturate_ you with me…Drench you...” he promised, forcing a rough kiss on her, pushing his tongue rudely into her mouth.

And at that, he lifted her until the head of his cock brushed against the entrance to her body.

_Let me in…_

She took him in hand to guide him in, rubbing the moisture that wept forth over her heated folds, lubricating and preparing herself for his inevitable invasion.

She rubbed him against her clit and her whole body shuddered at the pleasure of it.

_Fuck! You’re so hot…_

_I’m going to heat you from the inside out…_

_Oooohhh, yes!_

“Tell me,” he grunted aloud.

“I want you to. Heat me up, burn me up,” she whispered against his neck, giving him another lick that made him shudder and inhale sharply.

He pushed in, so slowly it was killing her, and her head fell into the crook of his neck so she could watch him push into the soft flesh between her legs.

_See how you stretch around me? Take me in?_

She saw. The sight of that massive erection disappearing into her swollen sex made her moan. The scalding pressure of it...mesmerized her. 

He lifted her just a bit, then sank her down just a little more.

_See how your body clings to me? You don’t want me to leave you…_

He was watching through her eyes, she realized.

His arms trembled and shook, and she knew it wasn’t from waning strength. He was holding back the urge to just violently plow into her by the thinnest of threads…

_You won’t hurt me. Just take it. Take me. Please._

_Oh, fuck, fuck. Baby, I want to…_

_Do it…_

Black magic flared and sparked as his restraint cracked, then broke.

He lifted her again and, with a ferocious snarl, impaled her on him…and her world split apart. She threw back her head and gasped, a low growl pushing its way out of her as he relentlessly pushed his way in.

Her body was fighting it - the size of him was making her buck and twist as she sought relief from the stretching tension.

"I warned you," he told her severely, as he worked his way in without remorse. "Try to relax, sweetheart..."

She felt a caress of magic, soothing and shadowed, brush against her, a reminder of his taste, the way he smelled, the heat...

His hot tongue snaked over her collarbone, leaving a trail of wet heat in its wake, making her skin glow red where he touched her. His claws sank into her hips and his teeth caught her neck as he lifted her again, pushing in deeper this time.

He grinned evilly at her and thrust into her. Hard.

She threw back her head and shrieked at the pleasure-pain of it.

_It’s just us now. Scream all you want._

He settled into a rolling thrust, moving her over him as he pummeled her from the inside out, forcing her to ride him, feeding dark energy to her like she was starving for it. 

And she was.

She swallowed it down, absorbing it, soaking it up, bathing in it. She smiled back and dragged her nails down his chest, not caring that he was scratched and burned from earlier. He growled and bounced her on him more forcefully.

Fuck, she was getting drunk on him, his taste and smell, his throbbing heat between her legs bumping forcefully against her womb, until she was so full there was no room inside her for anything but him…and it was making her…insane, she realized vaguely, as she began sucking in the black whirling power that threaded around them, letting it sink into her skin and crawl like electricity through her body, twitching and tickling the tips of her breasts, plucking at the sensitive bud at the center of her thighs…

_You’re mine. Say it._

_I’m yours._

The heat was incredible. She was burning alive, melting over him, hot sweat-slicked skin gliding against his as she raked her hands through his hair and pushed eagerly against him, trying desperately to get closer, to let him in. And he wanted in. All the way.

_Again. Say it._

_I’m yours. I’m fucking yours…_

Sweat poured. Her heart thundered. Every nerve in her body agitated and heightened, grasping at the swirling darkness surrounding them. He grinned at her with diabolical lust and unleashed a wave of dark power that ruptured her sanity.

_You’re letting me fuck you, you filthy girl…_

_It’s so bad of me…I shouldn’t_ , Rey thought fleetingly, even as she swept her tongue over the scar on his face, making him hiss and thrust into her with hard, furious pumps of his hips.

_You’re letting a beast like me rut in your cunt…so naughty, Rey…_

_It is…oh, fuck!_ He leaned into her with a savage grunt and bit her shoulder, licking at the droplet of red that formed on her skin.

_That makes you so fucking wet, baby…when I taste you…_

He rammed his cock into her, she choked and sobbed.

_You’re so dirty…the way you take my big, thick cock…so filthy how much you like it…it isn’t decent…_

_I do like it, I fucking love it, more, give me more –_

He fucked into her harder, now, grunting and growling like the deranged beast he was.

_I’m gonna make such a mess in you with my dirty, filthy cum…fill you to the brim…violate your little cunt…that’s what you want, isn’t it?_

He was forged in her mind, burrowed in so deep she wasn’t sure he would ever get out. And she didn’t want him to leave. Ever.

“Fill me up,” she moaned.

“Like this?” he grunted, watching the obscene way her breasts bounced as he gripped her ass and fucked into her until she couldn’t breathe.

“Fucking do it,” she gasped.

It was too much. Her nipples tingled and burned with each scrape against his chest. Her neck stung and prickled from where he licked and bit with increasing abandon. Her cunt tightened around him, clutching at the burning heat that stroked her, entrenched in her.

_I will, sweetheart. I will…_

It felt so fucking wrong and so fucking good at the same time.

His brow furrowed as she began fiercely riding him, pulling more dark magic into her until every piece of her, body and soul, was crawling with it…her mind was going to snap as she glared furiously into his eyes, drinking it in recklessly.

She threw back her head, watching him through slitted eyes, the way he bared his teeth, how his neck corded and strained, how his eyes fought with hers for supremacy, control...and she reveled in the excruciating danger…she was on the edge of sanity…she was falling…

_You have to do whatever I say._

_I will…_

She felt a slight panic from his consciousness as he realized unstoppable waves of energy were flowing into her…she was pulling in so much…too much…

_Rey, give over to me! Make room…give it to me…give me…_

She ignored him and dragged more dark magic into her, letting it flood her, riding him harder, wild with the splendor of him filling every inch of her, swelling her with it…

A bead of sweat trickled down his neck and she bit him there, drawing blood and licking his wound as fire erupted in her belly, making him fuck her harder still even as he yelled, “Rey! Give me…fuck – let go!”

"More," she groaned wildly.

"Make room, baby, let go..." he muttered desperately, eyes flickering urgently over her face. _Please, sweetheart,_ he begged.

She opened her eyes and made space for the dark power filling her the only way she could…she felt a little piece of her, herself, the thing that made her _Rey_ , slip into him, exchanging just a sliver of her soul with his.

The pressure relieved, she relaxed into him on a husky breath of surrender, and _fuck!_ the exquisite aching pleasure of her orgasm fused with his, an amalgamation of combined, wild bliss … _oh, fuck … yes –_

He threw back his head and roared at the power of it.

Her body spasmed and compressed around his and she could feel it, both of them together, straining and melding and _oh-fuck-fuck-yes!_ …it was so good…liquid fire and darkness poured through her veins and she watched his eyes change from burning obsidian to glowing red as he spilled himself into her eager cunt, his hot spend gushing into her welcoming body. A ragged, prolonged bellow ripped from his throat until the tower shook.

The room, already destroyed, completely shattered.

And in that instant of perfect, unholy communion, the fabric of her universe shredded and tangled with his, leaving a stain on her soul that she would never be able to remove. Like a deeply-rooted tree, darkness entangled around her, a core of burning, wrathful power that stretched into her entire being, into every corner of her mind…

Obliterated. And re-made into something else…

But something had happened to him, too…she could see it.

A flare of white light, filling the cracks in his heart, seamlessly, like molten gold, temporarily obscuring the dark with the brightness of ... what she'd given him.

They stared at each other, shocked and guilty, locked together as tightly as two pieces of a puzzle, in full awareness of each other and what had happened.

Like a drop of poison in a glass of water. There was no way to un-mix it.

No way to undo what had been done.

 

**_Back at Maz’s…_ **

Rey awoke to the sound of a mighty roar, unlike anything she’d ever heard in her life. She’d been lying on a plaid sofa…she was at the bar…

Maz, the bartender, hovered worriedly over her, and the moment Rey’s eyes snapped open, Maz said grimly, “We need to get out of here.”

“What’s that sound?” Rey gasped, wide-awake and slightly off-kilter as she realized she was once-again wearing skin-tight, cherry-red leather. The smell of diesel permeated the air. _Where’s my jacket?_

On cue, Maz handed it to her.

_Where are they?_ Rey thought, forgetting for a moment she could not communicate in this realm the way she had when…

Another ground-shaking roar came from the front of the bar, outside.

_Oh, shit._

Rey slipped on her jacket and ran to the front door, ignoring Maz’s “No! Wait!”

Too late.

Rey had opened the door and blinked twice at the sight that met her eyes in the street just outside the bar.

_OH, SHIT!_

A huge, black dragon lurched menacingly between three men, who Rey realized were Luke, Finn, and some other guy, and there was a _FUCKING DRAGON IN THE STREET_.

Massive leathery wings spanned the entire width of the building, with sharp curved talons at the bony joints where the wings folded. The creature’s long tail, studded with deadly-looking spikes, curled and snaked agitatedly around its sleekly muscled body as if seeking something or someone to demolish.

Just then, the dragon lowered its enormous head, easily the size of a small car, and roared again, flaring its nostrils while melting-hot flame fountained forth from between its bared fangs.

The creature was covered in glittering black scales and paced with restless energy as it attempted to melt the three men in front of it. Rey could feel the heat from it and broke into an instant sweat.

The ground and street bore long streaks of scorched, melted pavement, long claw-marks scarring the street beneath the behemoth beast's talons.

_Ben! That's Ben…_

“Ben! Stop it!” Rey shrieked, and the creature moved its head around to stare at her with eyes of unearthly amber.

Finn lifted his flamethrower again, spraying it at the dragon, but it did nothing. The other man Rey did not recognize lifted a large gun and started spraying bullets at it, but nothing touched it.

Luke was shielding the three of them with some kind of energy field that bubbled and smoked as Ben unleashed another intense, furnace-hot blast at them.

_It’s not going to hold_ , Rey thought. _He’s going to kill them…_

She reached out with her mind and was going to attempt to communicate with Ben, just as rough hands gripped her so hard she shrieked and fell to her knees.

_One of his creatures…_

But Rey _knew_ things now. There was no fucking way she was going to let this fucking minion push her around.

Still kneeling, she called her knife to her as she’d done in her dream and stabbed it into the creature’s foot.

At that, several things happened at once.

The dragon that was Ben evaporated into a whirl of smoke and suddenly he was standing right there, shoving his henchman away from her with so much force the siding of the bar cracked.

“If you ever fucking touch her again, I will flay you alive,” he growled in a demon’s voice, dragging the coil of his whip so close to the Knight’s face it sizzled the creature’s skin, “and send you to the Underworld piece by tiny little piece.”

Luke, thinking his nephew was distracted, was carefully creeping closer.

Ben didn’t even turn his head, snapping his whip behind him so quickly, Luke jumped back.

Then he slowly turned his head to Rey, an unfathomable look in his amber eyes. _Are you all right?_

She crouched there on the wooden porch in front of the bar and just gaped at him. Was he kidding?

_He’s a fucking dragon. He has his whip._ And she fully remembered everything he’d done to her last weekend. Everything.

No. She wasn’t fucking all right.

His head cocked down to notice her steak knife, gleaming innocuously on the wooden planks beneath her. Before she could reach for it, he snapped his whip around the knife, a line of fire reflected in slow motion as the object was snagged. And then it disappeared in a puff of smoke.

A sound like thunder, like the reverse gong of a very large bell, vibrated all around them, and Rey knew immediately something very bad had just happened.

He’d just sent an anchor to his master. That couldn’t be good.

“Ben, NO!” Luke shouted behind them…and then he stopped, stunned, looking back and forth between the two. Luke had not missed the way she’d used magic, just now. “Oh, no. What have you two done?”

“Us two?” Rey shouted, turning on her next-door neighbor with an angry glare. As furious as she was with Ben, she had some major issues with Luke, now, too.

Luke shook his head in wide-eyed admonition, finally turning to Ben, who glowered at him, holding his uncoiled whip at the ready.

“What did you do to her?” Luke asked, aghast. He already knew, by the look on his face.

Rey stood, hands on her leather-clad hips, Ben’s whip coiling like a living thing around them both. As pissed as she was at Ben, she was for once in solidarity with him.

Ben’s accusing glare matched Rey’s fulminating ire. “I reminded her who she is. I know you’re the one who took her memory, Sandman.”

“And I want it back. Right. Fucking. Now,” Rey spat.

“Rey,” Luke started, but she interrupted him.

“Ben! Send another thing – send another thing away with your whip unless he gives it to me,” Rey ordered.

She sensed Ben’s absolute delight radiating from behind her. _Fuck, yes, sweetheart. Whatever you want._

_Don’t get too cocky, you’re still in trouble, too!_

“No! No, don’t!” Luke shouted again, as Rey watched a flash of red appear on the ground next to her. Her raincoat.

Ben’s whip slithered and shushed around it until it, too, disappeared with a loud percussion. 

“I’ll do anything she wants, Sandman. Anything she tells me to. You know why…” Ben threatened.

“You didn’t – you couldn’t have…When?” Luke sputtered.

“Where is my memory, Mr. Skywalker? I want it! _Now!_ ” Rey shouted again, unable to call him Sandman or Luke, in some weird rush of manners.

“You’ve lost a Text and two anchors, Jedi,” Ben hissed malevolently. “Are you trying to go for a third?”

Rey heard his thought as clear as day. _It’s only a matter of time, now, before I find the others…_

He wanted her to help him, she knew. She wasn't sure how she felt about that, knowing everything she knew, now. She was more interested in having that memory back, first.

“I’ll do it. I’ll return it. But, I want you to give her the lamp…and she has to come with me,” Luke finally said, eyes glinting with a bit of formidable power of his own.

“So you can fuck with my mind some more?” Rey hissed, all sense of manners forgotten. “I don’t think so old man!”

Ben grunted, torn. Rey sensed he wanted her to have that memory more than anything. It proved so much…

“Did you really…?” Luke couldn’t even say it, it was so vile, what they’d done. Against the laws of nature.

“Yes,” Ben muttered. “I _really_. And it’s all your fault.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all so much for your wonderful comments, kudos, and Twitter love! It feeds me, literally keeps me going, and I don’t have the words – which as a writer is rare for me! – to express how much your praise and encouragement has meant.  
> I might have a bit of a praise kink…  
> Bless you all and keep your eyes out for the next update! XOXO!


	8. The Pied Piper of Hamlin Elementary School

**Two Weeks Ago…**

Kylo logged into the Dark Side book club group chat, tamping down his impatience as he plotted a way to get her to call him by name…

Here, in this realm, he had powers. But until he could rewrite the Text, those powers were limited.

He needed her. He needed her to call him by name. His full name. Out loud.

He’d been searching for her for eons, through all the stories, but he’d finally tracked the Sandman and his mother to this realm. He’d been searching the wrong places when it finally occurred to him perhaps the Sandman would keep her sleeping – nowhere else he looked showed any signs of her presence in the story. Which could only mean one thing.

The Sandman had written her out of this story. On purpose.

And that left him just the opening he needed.

 

BC_Ren: agree, Caro, but still think Kylo is justified in his actions – he had no choice

Rey_needs_cock: BC – u mean greater good?

BC_Ren: Yeah. If he hadn’t done what he did, the nuke would have been detonated.

little_chill: idk. Kylo could have found

darcy’s hoe:  OMG, ARE WE TALKING ABOUT KYLO’S DICK?

little_chill: a better way to get the data

Carolina: …he tied her up, tho…that was hot!

BC_Ren: …

Rey_needs_cock: I want Kylo to tie me up and just take whatever he wants

Carolina: Same

darcy’s hoe: MOOD

Rey_needs_cock: Like. Why can’t I find a Kylo irl?

darcy’s hoe: Choke me Kylo. pls

little_chill: Rey – your Kylo is out there, just be patient

Rey_needs_cock: Where is he? Ugh.

BC_Ren: Midnight ritual for Rey?

Rey_needs_cock: LOL, right?!

Carolina: Oh, yeah, Rey, don’t you know you have to stand under a full moon

darcy’s hoe: Spin around three times…

BC_Ren: …and say “Kylo Ren, come to me”

little_chill: sounds like a plan

darcy’s hoe: wouldn’t hurt to try, Rey!

Rey_needs_cock: Yeah, maybe I’ll try it! LOL.

BC_Ren: lol, good luck, Rey

Carolina: u never know! We should all do it…

At the sound of one of his Knights snickering lewdly, Kylo did not need to read further in the group chat to know Carolina was probably going off on some tangent…

He turned to her and snapped, “Caro. Focus on the task at hand.”

His other Knights bent their heads over their keyboards and proceeded to turn the group chat into a filthy cesspool of Kylo Ren smut fantasy...

Hopefully, Rey would be desperate enough to try…this time…she just needed to say his name out loud…and then he’d have her…finally…

When she actually did it twenty minutes later, he was so surprised, he almost didn’t know how to react.

She must have done it, though, because one minute he was brooding and plotting and trying to ignore his Knights’ increasingly lewd laughter, and the next he heard her, as clearly as if she’d whispered in his ear… _Kylo Ren. Come to me…_

The instant she said his full name out loud, calling to him, he knew exactly where she was…and how to get to her…

 

**In a Realm Beyond Mortal Boundaries…**

When he’d arrived at the temple six hours late on his wedding day, the Bride Gifts conspicuously absent, his mother had been furious.

Leia Organa-Solo’s wrath was a sight to behold.

Still, Ben had stood resolute in the face of her anger, even as his betrothed ironically shook her blonde head at him and muttered, “You just started a war...for a pair of pretty eyes? Fool.”

The only person who seemed to understand Ben’s reticence at marrying to solve a political problem was his father.

“I know what it’s like to fall for someone inappropriate,” Han had murmured, nodding at Leia as she ranted to the room at large. “And if we can find a way, then so can you, kid.”

Ben had caused enough political damage it had been impossible for him to leave the castle without full cover of darkness.

His mother had set guards on him, and Ben was pretty sure his uncle was watching him like a hawk, as well.

Still, it did not stop him from seeking out Rey as frequently as he could.

A cool wind ruffled his hair, and Ben steered his mount toward the old mill at the edge of the forest.

He’d visited his master earlier, the Dark Mage Snoke.

Ben's conscience prickled and stung, corroded by the deal he’d finally made, much to his new master’s delight.

And while the magic he’d traded himself for had left him feeling gutted and so damaged he would never be able to undo it, Ben was not sorry.

In his mind, the trade had been worth it. He’d found a way. A way to write himself out of the hero’s role and buy himself enough power that, so long as he fulfilled his part of the bargain, Ben Solo would be able to be with the girl he loved with all the passion in his smoldering heart…

He could finish what his grandfather had started.

He even already had the anchors. Well, he’d given them to Rey, but still. He just needed to bring them to his master, and then he would have everything he ever wanted.

The Bride Gifts had been intended to anchor the warring realms to each other and provide lasting peace and security to both sides. But Ben’s new master had even grander plans – what if they could anchor the world of the living to the world of the dead?

Then war and suffering would not be necessary. There would be no need for the Texts, the rigid Jedi way of separating the Light from the Dark.

Ben shook his head at the foolishness of his uncle and his mother. How many more would they let die before they realized the Light and Dark could coexist?

Once his Master Snoke had the anchors, he would no longer need to remain behind the veil of Death… If only they had the anchors, Snoke could walk amongst the mortals and set the world to rights, with Ben at his master’s side. Ben understood this and had been greatly honored at the role his master had given him and the whip that would ensure Ben could walk between both realms.

Snoke had even shown a flattering interest at Ben’s plight of falling in love with a nobody peasant girl – Ben would not keep secrets from his master – the girl had no role in this story, she came from nothing, and yet Ben loved her.

Snoke had been extremely curious about the young woman who had so captivated Ben’s heart and expressed a sincere desire to meet her one day.

Ben could make her a queen, an empress, bowing to no one. Give her wealth and power beyond her greatest imaginings.

And Ben could stop the war. Undo the damage he’d caused by failing to follow through with the betrothal. He could bring true peace to the Realm. By ruling it. With her at his side.

He urged his horse on faster, in his eagerness to get to her, then slowed as he finally reached the old mill.

He approached her modest hut cautiously. He would not frighten her in the dead-dark of night.

The broken-down stable nearby was empty, and Ben carefully unsaddled and brushed his horse before leaving the animal to a well-deserved rest.

No moon or stars provided light and yet Ben found his new powers yielded the secrets of the darkness to him easily, now. He found the well and pulled up a bucket of icy-cold water for his horse, before scrubbing some over his face and hands, doing his best to wash the worst of the road dust and lingering sensation of dark magic that seemed to stain his skin.

He turned to the hut where his love slept and crept inside, wraithlike.

Dimly-glowing embers in the hearth pitched long shadows over the walls, and he approached her small bed silently. She slept on her side, turned away from the door, long hair spilling down her back onto the floor, shining in loose curls that drew his hand to touch.

He knelt by her bed in the warm, low light and combed his fingers through the silky-soft tresses, hoping to wake her gently.

She turned onto her back, sleepy and smiling, as he lifted a handful of hair to his lips and pressed it to his lips, breathing in the scent of her, a smile in his eyes.

“My prince?”

“I’ve done it, sweetheart. I’ve found a way…” he murmured, catching the question in her eyes before pulling her into his arms for a soul-searing kiss. “Now…will you marry me?”

 

**Outside Maz’s Bar and Cantina…**

Luke Skywalker watched them both, hawk-like and serious. It was rather intimidating, although Rey was not afraid of him.

Rey felt Ben’s hostility radiating from behind her as she stared down Luke Skywalker with all her considerable ire.

_“You have no idea who and what you are, do you? You’re telling me you live next door to Luke fucking Skywalker and you don’t know?”_

_“What the hell does Mr. Skywalker have to do with anything?” she’d asked._

_“Everything!”_

She was tired. She was hungry. And she was _pissed_.

“Rey. If you want that memory…I’ll meet you in one hour. At Leia’s,” Luke finally murmured quietly before shaking his head at Ben.  

At that, he turned casually and gestured Finn and the other man to follow him.

Ben’s Knights hissed and jeered at them as they walked away, but Luke merely lifted a hand to remove all evidence that a dragon had ever scorched the concrete until it melted. The massive gaps Ben had clawed through the road closed together.

Ben was keeping his Knights close, although Rey knew not why. His whip slithered a line of fire around them still. He would not coil it until he was sure the Sandman was well away.

Because now she knew without a doubt that Luke, her friendly next-door neighbor, had done exactly what Ben had told her all along: He’d left her defenseless in this realm, unaware of her powers and how to use them. Worse than that, he’d taken a memory from her that obviously meant the world to Ben…which meant it was also now of imperative significance to her.

And while Ben had certainly gone about it the wrong way, he’d at least showed her the truth.

She felt the caress of his mind in hers, an apology of sorts, a supplication.

_Sweetheart, I know I have to explain, but –_

She abruptly cut him off, and as painful as it was, that loss of connection – would she ever truly not want him there, with her, now? – she felt him retreat, disappointed. Hurt.

Luke Skywalker had something that belonged to her…and so did Kylo Ren. That Zippo was _hers_ …they’d made a deal.

And now she knew exactly what it was. It terrified her.

Her legs shook with the fatigue of the events of the evening. The Cup-O’-Noodles she’d scarfed down earlier – before the Bake Sale – was long gone.

“Sweetheart? When is the last time you ate something?” Ben queried softly, noticing her stumble a bit. He moved to hold her steady as she wove on her feet.

She leaned into him seeking comfort in the heat of his arms, his solid chest providing warm support against her exhausted body.

It surprised her how good it felt to receive solace from such an unlikely source as him, the cause of her many woes. Her thoughts swirled around her, a maelstrom of chaotic revelation, as his arms wrapped around her. She sighed when he gently kissed her hair.

She should have known better than to let him get his arms around her.

She should have realized the safety she felt in his embrace was merely an illusion…

…Kylo Ren was more dangerous now than ever, especially after she could recall that dream...

The realization came too late, as she remembered Leia’s earlier words.

_He’s rewriting. He’ll go through the storylines one by one…_

His thoughts poured into her head and she panicked at the sensation of his steely arms squeezing around her.

_A thousand, thousand times, this story has been told. And a thousand, thousand times you’ve been tempted… and I’ve come sooo close… but you always run, and he always hides you. You can’t hide from me this time…_

_…now I can finally rewrite this godforsaken story…_

Rey struggled to move from his hold, discerning his intentions a heartbeat too late. Ben’s arms constricted even more, vice-like and impenetrable. Electric energy sparked off her skin, but it did not hurt him…it could not.

_I will not hurt you. I can’t…_

The thought – his thought – speared into her a moment before he changed his grip on her, twisting her around to hold her against him in his while he freed a hand…reached into the air…and called forth the Zippo.

_“I fed your waking dreams until you called me by name… and I finally found you…Scheherazade…Genie of the Lamp ……”_

They were connected. She could not hurt him. Not really…

_Ben…Please…_

_I’m sorry,_ she heard his sorrowful apology, even as he tightened his grip.

“No! Ben, please don’t!” she cried out, struck with a horrible crawling dread at what he was about to do.

She paused, frantic to find a way out of his iron grasp with every fiber of her being.

_PLEASE, Ben! Please don’t do this. Don’t go this way…_

“Rey. I have to, don’t you understand? Together, we can make things right…We can bring a new order to the galaxy…This is the only way,” he pleaded in a whisper, his eyes burning into hers as he sought some hint of forgiveness or understanding for what he was about to do.

Rey tried to fight him off managing to free her arms to push at his immobile chest, but she couldn’t free herself from his implacable will and overpowering strength.

He struck the flint of the lighter and ignited a wave a magic that swathed around her like a net.

The air around her warped and contracted in a single pulse, and Rey’s mind went blank and clear, as an echo from inside her mind – like the loud, piercing gong of a bell – struck and vibrated and resounded through every fiber of her being.

She dropped her arms instantly and regarded him in horror. For a split second, she saw an aura around him, red and raw and crackling with dark energy. As if another dimension, another universe, was temporarily layered over her reality.

For a brief moment, he was… a beast. She could  _see_  it, as she could before. And now…she could hear it, as well.

Ben swept her into his arms with a ragged, “I’m sorry. I had to…I’m…so…sorry…”

He truly looked like he meant it. His eyes blazed with disgrace and contrition, and she hated him for it, shoving away from him spitefully.

_…now…heed me, Servant, Genie of the Lamp…_

“Wh…what is your command…my… _Master?_ ” Rey sobbed, tears pouring down her face.

Still, he did not hesitate with his next words. Ben’s shamefaced expression did not mitigate her humiliation. Or her hurt at his betrayal.

“Go to the Sandman…get something to eat. Rest…try to retrieve your memory. And then come to me… _please._ ”

She gaped at him in shock. 

 _He will go through the storylines one by one…rewriting…_ that was what Leia said he would do…

And while he’d sent her away, he would continue to search for the anchors…so he could send them back to the twisted creature he served, the one she’d seen on the throne.

Rey knew he’d never meant to involve her this way…not until tonight, when his memory charm wore off and she realized exactly who and what she was…

If he had traded himself in service to the darkest sorcerer in the universe, in exchange to be the Monster, then she…

The enormity of what she’d done hit her like a freight train. In a moment of weakness in that dream, in her unguarded concession to temptation, they’d intertwined themselves in every possible way…

They were bonded, and there was no undoing what had been done.

_The Sandman finally made a mistake… He's kept you sleeping, unaware._

She finally understood why Luke had been so frightened.

Ben could become any monster he wanted…and he would not stop. Not if he had to tear down the foundations of the universe.

And now that Ben – no, she would only call him Kylo Ren, now, the monster’s name he deserved – now that _Kylo_ had used the Lamp, he would rewrite the next story, until he found another anchor, just as he’d done with _Sleeping Beauty, Little Red Riding Hood, Scheherazade’s Aladdin…_

And she knew what she was now…the unfamiliar word snaked through her mind… _adamantine_ …

Now they were connected, and she had access to dark magic…she could walk through dreams, draw upon the darkest forces of the galaxy…

Together, they would be unassailable. They could unleash devastation and ruin in this realm to the point of total, catastrophic destruction.

With that Lamp, Kylo Ren just created his own, personal, unbreakable servant…who was now beholden to his every wish.

At least so long as he held onto that Zippo.

Scrubbing the tears from her face, chest heaving, Rey turned away and ran for her Ducati, hopping on and scattering Kylo and his Knights with a spray of gravel and dirt as she spun the bike into a semi-circle and sped down the road to Leia’s.

It had been petty, and she knew Kylo would not care – he might even welcome the small punishment, an outward expression of rebellion from her.

She’d seen it in his mind, clearly as if it had been written on a chalkboard.

He had said “try” though, and “please” – why had he done that?

She thought about what else she’d seen in his mind.

Yes, she owned the objects, the anchors, because of that secret wedding once upon a time in a realm far from here. Ownership did not nullify the magic the objects possessed. But it did make her a liability. And a huge target as Leia had said.

“Your powers are in many ways the opposite of his,” Leia had told her.

Leia had _not_ known of the black magic they’d used to bind themselves in her dream at the time.

She’d been referring to Rey’s _other_ so-called powers, which Rey knew would be utterly useless against the forces of Darkness they had unleashed. Pathetic.

She was good at waiting. And salvaging broken things. That was it.

It also meant Leia must have known of Rey from _that_ time…that realm beyond…

Fucking Luke. Why hadn’t he told her?

Rey considered turning the bike around and heading in the opposite direction but found herself unable to do so, compelled by the magic of the Lamp to follow her master’s wishes…

Her master. That piece of shit.

How could he? How could he do that? After everything she’d seen in his mind, after everything she knew. This was the worst possible thing he could have done to her.

She was so furious with him, she couldn’t think of words bad enough to call him.

The wind hit her face with a cold blast as she revved the engine and went even faster, not caring at her lack of helmet or the reckless speed at which she traveled, or anything but following his orders…

 

**_In a firelit hut, long ago in a Realm Beyond Mortal Boundaries…_ **

“Will I marry you? Is such a thing possible?” she asked, eyes aglow from the embers in the hearth.

He kissed her again, warming his night-cool lips with her soft, sleep-softened breath.

“It is, now,” he promised, tamping down the guilt bubbling up inside him, knowing she might not understand his full explanation.

People shied away from the use of dark magic in this realm. They feared it unnecessarily, in his opinion. Still. He would not frighten her.

“How? When?” Her soft hands ran up his neck to clutch his hair and she kissed him shyly. She swept her tongue into his mouth and he groaned at the sweet taste of her warm lips, her hesitant advance – it was the first time she’d ever been so bold with him and his heart thundered with joy and pride.

“Is that a yes?” he chuckled hoarsely, trying for a restrained reaction and failing spectacularly, pulling her to sit against him.

“Yes!” she exclaimed before kissing him again.

“We…could do it right now if you want. We have everything we need…” he said carefully, watching her face for a sign of hesitation. But her eyes lit, and she pulled his mouth to hers again.

“What about your family? Witnesses? I don’t know how these things are done…” she whispered.

_She’s shy. Because she’s a peasant and she feels unworthy…_

“My family will not know until it is done. By then it will be too late for them to argue. And…I have a plan… The Bride Gifts will bind us – I know how. Nobody can deny you as my princess once it has been done, not without severe consequences. The embers in the hearth…those can be our witnesses…” he explained urgently, kissing her cheeks and forehead, before planting his lips firmly over hers.  

He could not help himself from pushing his tongue into her mouth now, her shy overtures making him eager to reciprocate his desire for her.

A secret wedding was just the sort of thing his grandfather would have done.

“What do we do?” she murmured, gasping as he pressed hot kisses along the slender column of her neck, gently licking at her pulse.

It occurred to him she was probably a virgin. It had occurred to him on a regular basis over the past few weeks and months they’d been meeting in secret. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

She gasped again as he swept his hair-roughened chin lightly over her collarbone, feasting on her tender neck as if she were the finest delicacy…

“Oh!” she cried out, hands grasping at the front of his tunic in an urgent gesture of pleasure.

Reluctantly, he pulled back to admire the red marks he’d made on her before looking into her eyes.

“Do you really want to? Do you still have the things I left with you?”

“Yes. In the box at the foot of my bed…” She waved a hand to the foot of her bed and he scooted around to drag the rough-edged wooden box between them.

He pulled out several objects one by one, wrapped in his red cape: The tip of a spindle, golden and symbolic rather than practical, a small, oddly-curved oil lamp, and a few other peculiar items that appeared to be very old – all were very valuable, even had they not been imbued with ancient magic.

Although they appeared to be an odd assortment of trinkets, Ben knew these items were worth a kingdom. He would gladly give them over to her.

He would give her the kingdom, too, he vowed to himself.

He set each item one-by-one on the floor before sweeping his cape around her shoulders while she sat on the edge of her bed, watching him curiously. He noticed her hand clutch in awe at the expensive fabric and his throat constricted as a wave of possessiveness flooded him.

Soon enough he’d have her wearing…just him…

Wide-eyed, she whispered, “My prince –”

“Ben. Call me Ben. Please.”

“Ben…” Her eyes swept around the modest room, the dirt floor, the thatched roof. “I’m not…I don’t deserve…This place is so…and you are a _prince_ …”

Anger flared as he understood what she was trying to articulate. He brushed her lips with an outstretched finger, silencing her protests. “You deserve everything, sweetheart. And I would rather marry you here, in this simple place, and have it mean something than wed myself in a glorious temple to a haughty stranger who has no love for me. I…love you.”

He brushed a curved finger over her cheek, reassuring her. He meant it sincerely.

“All right. _Ben_.”

The sound of his name on her lips sent fire straight to his groin. He wanted to hear her scream it in the throes of passion. Soon enough.

He took a deep breath and their eyes met. Everything around him faded except for her.

He shifted, kneeling before her as she sat on her humble bed. He gave her an encouraging smile.

“We will make a vow, each to the other as we hold each gift. It will create a magical bond…” She blinked at him at his mention of magic.

“Don’t be afraid,” he spoke gently, but firmly. She nodded bravely, and he fell just a little bit more in love with her.

One by one, he held up each of the objects laid out before him and made a promise with each one.

“I swear on my heart…that this spindle might represent our hearts, woven together in a single thread…I will always desire you…”

“I swear by my tongue…that this lamp might always burn bright with the love I have for you…I will ever speak sweetly and gently to you…”

“I swear by my body…that this cloak might display to the realm a symbol of my protection…I will never hurt you…”

After each vow he made, with the exception of his cape, he handed the object to her and she repeated the words to him, eyes shining, before carefully placing them back in the open box between them.

The items inside seemed to glow with radiant white light before Ben carefully closed the lid and scooted forward until he knelt before her.

Their union would be sealed and legal upon consummation of the marriage. One would only need to examine the Bride Gifts to verify the legality and sanctity of it.

After the disturbing agony of trading his service for powerful magic, to be a Darkwalker, as his master had promised, Ben found this moment of his life a sweetly poignant contrast.

“You are mine, now…” he muttered, soaking in her every expression. “Finally…”

“I am,” she agreed, her lips meeting his eagerly.

Lust flooded into him as he pulled her closer against him.

_Only one last thing to finalize our pact. . ._

 

**_Meanwhile, Back at Maz’s Cantina…_ **

Now he had finally gotten his whip back, he could focus his full attention on acquiring the rest of the anchors.

He needed to know for sure she’d kept all of them when she’d traveled to this mortal realm.

Because if his suspicions were correct…then he only needed a few more. And if his Master Snoke was correct…then those Bride Gifts were the last remaining anchors in existence.

Nobody knew for sure. But Snoke was wise and had not been wrong, yet.

And if Rey could just _remember_ …then she could find it in her heart to forgive him for this latest transgression.

He couldn’t bring himself to outright order her to do whatever it took to retrieve her memory.

Kylo knew enslaving her with the Lamp was tantamount to unforgivable. He knew it and had never felt himself to be such a monster as he had just now. But he _needed_ that memory.

He’d done enough damage to her in her dream…letting her see the things he’d done, feel the pain he’d gone through, before corrupting and twisting her for his own ends…

For now, she hated him, and she had every reason to. But she would come back to him soon enough.

In the meantime, he would hope Rey would distract his mother and uncle long enough to give him time to pay a visit to her very shitty ex-boyfriend.

Who, if Kylo’s survey of Rey’s mind had been even remotely accurate, deserved nothing less than a personal visit from the Grim Reaper himself.

A role Kylo would be more than happy to undertake. Immediately.

 

**_The Next Day…_ **

Rey woke at Leia’s house, early.

She remembered arriving at Leia’s and walking through the back door as if she lived there. She had absolutely zero remaining patience for manners, at this point.

Luke was in the kitchen, waiting for her.

“Did he give you the Lamp?” Luke asked without preamble.

Rey had merely shaken her head. Luke sighed.

Leia came in and went to the fridge, pulling out a container of leftovers and Rey’s stomach let out a noisy rumble.

“He said I should eat and rest and try to get my memory back,” Rey spoke into the awkward silence. “And then go back to him.”

“Food, first,” Leia insisted.

“Rey. That memory… We need to talk about it,” Luke finally said over the hum of the microwave.

Rey nodded.

She understood. After everything she’d learned from Ben, after everything she’d seen, and especially after he’d used the Lamp on her…perhaps Luke had a reason for doing what he’d done…

She was beginning to grasp how ruthless Ben would be in attaining his goals. A fact his mother and uncle would already understand.

She had fallen asleep at some point in the early morning, exhausted after a prolonged discussion and a huge plate of leftover lasagna.

Leia had left her pajamas and a blanket and had promised Ben – Kylo – would not return. Rey knew why, but Leia’s reassurances still made her feel better.

_He’s going after another anchor while he thinks we are all distracted._

Rey had changed and vaguely remembered listening tiredly to Luke and Leia’s low voices before she’d fallen asleep on the living room sofa.

“So, you actually gave him that whip? I can’t believe you were that fucking stupid, Luke,” Leia hissed at her brother.

“You weren’t there! Chewie brought it to me, and he told me what Maz said. Told me Ben was gonna leave her in the dream realm…let her go insane unless he got it…”

“He was bluffing! Shit, Luke. I should have gone instead of…” Leia looked guiltily at Rey before continuing. “Instead of going to her place to look for the other things.”

Rey didn’t even care if Leia had apparently raided her house looking for more anchors. She was becoming more and more groggy by the minute. She wondered if her tiredness was coming in part from Luke…

“Where do you think she’s left the other anchors?” Luke whispered, watching Rey’s eyes flutter closed…

“I don’t know. But I have no doubt Ben is hunting for them. If they…if they really did what you said…Ben will probably know everything he needs to figure out what and where they are…” Leia muttered.

“I can try to find him, try to stop him, but Leia, he’s so strong, now. He turned into a damn dragon tonight…”

“He did _what?_ ”

“Yeah. A full-sized, hundred-foot tall, fire-breathing dragon. Almost killed Finn and Poe…not to mention me…”

“Have to go back to him…soon…” Rey whispered tiredly.

“She keeps saying she has to go back to him…Why is that?” Leia whispered thoughtfully.

“I, uh…I think he got hold of the Lamp, and I think he used it…”

“No!”

“She’ll only sleep for so long if that’s the case… She’s here on his orders, Leia. I can’t give her that memory, but I’m not sure what the magic will do if she fails to follow the Master of the Lamp’s…Ben’s wishes…”

Luke watched her in concern, and Rey didn’t even try to resist as she felt a slither of magic slip into her, soft and sleepy. Sandman, indeed.

“Where are the most likely places she’d have the other anchors, Luke? I think you can tell me, at this point…” Leia pushed.

“Leia. If she gets that memory back, she will know exactly where and what they are…and so will he. They are bonded, now, by a Force I cannot overcome.”

“She’s only been in town for a matter of weeks. How far can they have gotten?”

Rey drifted off at that point, too tired to care about anything but sleep.

When she woke up, the house was quiet. Empty-quiet.

Nobody was home.

Rey found a pair of jeans, a white cotton blouse, and some very modest cotton underclothes waiting for her in a neat pile.

 _Fairy fucking godmother_. Those underwear were bordering on granny panties. Either Leia was making a very snarky joke, or she was just genuinely trying to make up for the ass-crack-riding thong she’d put Rey in last night…

Her red leather jacket and boots remained where she’d left them, and Rey hastily dressed.

She could only think of one thing… _get back to him…_

The compulsion almost overrode her serious need for caffeine.

Leia’s kitchen was promptly scanned, and Rey was thrilled to find a fresh pot of coffee waiting for her, along with a fresh toothbrush and a neatly penned note.

_Luke and I are running errands. Help yourself. Understand if you must leave before we get back. -L._

Rey felt an itchy-crawly sensation at the back of her neck. She needed to leave. She needed to find him…

She had gone through several lifetimes worth of stress in the past day, she knew things she did not know were possible…and Ben…No. Kylo.

She knew so much now, she was sure she could tear down a small city with a wave of her hand.

That was fucking scary.

The urge to leave, to head for him became a shout in the back of her mind she could not ignore. Still, she gulped down several cups of coffee, scavenged through the fridge and found a croissant and a yogurt, and then brushed her teeth before succumbing to the overwhelming need to go to him…

Her body moved almost involuntarily to the Ducati parked outside. The keys remained in her jacket pocket, not that she would have needed them.

She knew how to jack a bike if the occasion called for it.

She climbed onto the bike and headed to work. Hamlin Elementary school.

Because that’s where he was.

She just knew it.

 

School had already started when Rey marched through the front doors.

Of course, Holdo was right there, hands on her hips. “Miss Rey. I didn’t think you would be here today…We already called in a substitute teacher…so whatever shenanigans you are up to…”

Rey ignored her and kept walking to her classroom. The fluorescent lights in the hallway were giving her a bit of a headache.

_He’s here. He’s close…_

Holdo, not to be easily intimidated, followed her. “Rey! I don’t know how things were run at your other school, but this is not okay!”

“Who’s the sub?” Rey asked, lengthening her strides, closer to him, closer…

“Mr. Ren. And we were lucky he was able to come in on such short notice!”

_Shit. He wouldn’t dare…actually. Shit, he would totally dare._

Rey whirled on her boss, incredulous. “You do realize you just put the Devil in charge of twenty-four first graders, right?”

“The who is in charge of what, now?” Holdo shook her head, looking at Rey as if she was crazy.

Rey stopped, just outside her classroom, peering through the reinforced glass window in the door.

Twenty-four first-graders sat on the floor, raptly staring at the tall, dark-haired, handsome man at the front of the class. He wore dark slacks and a long-sleeved gray shirt that outlined his gorgeous pecs. He looked…sexy and respectable. Rey felt flutters in her belly.

He was reading them a story…Rey felt mild annoyance because they’d never sat so still for her…

Kylo looked up from his story the moment Rey appeared on the other side of the door, and she felt the pull of _him_ sink into her with iron claws.

_Hey, sweetheart. You look like you’re feeling better._

_What are you doing here, Kylo Ren?_

His eyes glittered wickedly. She’d never called him that name before, aside from during their role-playing…she could tell it stung. Good.

He held a storybook Rey had brought with her when she’d moved to town. She’d had it since…before she could remember…but it was not an anchor. It was simply a memento of her past.

_Take your dirty fucking hands off my book, Kylo._

He grinned malevolently at her through the window, licked a finger, turned a page, and kept reading.

_You didn’t get that memory back did you?_

“See? Everything’s fine,” Holdo hissed.

Everything was so _not_ fine.

He was still looking for an anchor… and he knew one was nearby. He would not recognize it until he saw it, and in the meantime, he would have no compunctions about holding a room full of six-year-olds hostage until she gave it over.

The Devil, indeed.

It took everything in her to keep her eyes from drifting to the harmonica buried on her desk. An anonymous welcome gift from one of the teachers at the school, supposedly for music time.

Currently hiding under a pile of finger-painted construction paper.

She kept her gaze fixed on his.

He shifted, setting her book aside and dipped a hand into his pocket. Without taking his eyes off hers, he pulled out the Zippo and flicked it open, an arrogant sneer on his lips.

_...heed me, Servant, Genie of the Lamp…come to me…_

_I hate you,_ she thought viciously right before she reached over to the fire alarm next to the door and yanked the switch.

The horrified look on Holdo’s face was almost enough to make up for what happened next.

 

The fire alarm screeched loudly through the school and Kylo heard other classroom doors opening, raised voices in the hall, even as Rey stepped inside at his command.

Twenty-four first-graders remained absolutely still, watching his every move.

They would not move until he released them.

“You’re unconscionable! Using these kids as hostages? That’s…” Rey sputtered furiously.

“Give me what I want Rey, and I won’t compel you to do it with the Lamp…”

“Let them go, first,” she fumed.

“Not a fucking chance,” he retorted, eyes fixed on hers like a bird of prey, prodding at her mind. 

 _Dammit. Luke hadn’t given her that memory…_ Fury plowed through him and the building shook as if by an earthquake.

Holdo had followed Rey into the classroom. “What the heck is going on here? Kids! Let’s go, fire alarm!”

Nobody moved an inch.

 _Please…let them go…_ Rey begged with fire in her eyes.

His jaw clenched. He pushed his consciousness roughly against hers, a barrage that would have sent her to her knees days ago…

But not now. Fuck, she was strong.

She had taken too much from him in that damned dream.

He felt her reach for the Zippo, the untrained pull of her restless magic, and he only just managed to hang onto it by sheer brute force of will.

_That’s mine, baby. Where is the anchor?_

Rey reached the edge of the circle of children and gently leaned down to shake Jimmy’s shoulder. He didn’t budge. The children’s eyes remained glazed over as they stared attentively at their substitute teacher.

Holdo interrupted with a muted curse. “What the hell?”

Kylo snapped his fingers and the woman crumpled to the floor, knocked out.

“I will fucking send every last person in this room unless you give me what I want,” Kylo finally bit out, eyes blazing at Rey.

He allowed dark energy to pour into him, flickering over him in a cloud of power. If he tried to use the Lamp again, he knew without a doubt she would take it. That didn’t mean he couldn’t get what he wanted another way.

“I’m going to fucking kill you for this,” Rey swore, allowing herself to be filled with the same dark power as he had done.

_You can try. I’m not…dammit._

He watched, bemused and irritated, as Rey lifted a hand and Holdo revived herself.

Rey snapped her fingers and, as one, the children turned their heads.

Fuck. She really was a quick learner. It was as admirable as it was frustrating.

“Kids. Follow Principal Holdo outside. Fire drill.”

At Rey’s curt command, the children stood, entranced, and filed out the door of the classroom behind Holdo.

The fire alarm finally shut off, leaving the classroom quiet. Too quiet.

“Did you get some rest last night?” Kylo asked, running his gaze over her fresh clothes. He knew she had, he could catch glimpses of it in her mind.

“What did you do last night?” Rey retorted, then blinked at him as she pulled the answer from him before he could stop her…

“Me? I paid a visit to your ex,” he replied evenly. “What a piece of shit, Rey. You’re so much better than that scum.” He blocked her out of his mind with effort.

“I always go for such _assholes_ …” Rey spat agreeably.

Thinking to catch her off-guard, Kylo collected a purple ball of energy and held it to the side, levitating it an inch over his palm, ready to wrap it around her like a net…

But she knew exactly what he was doing. And then she smiled at him.

He never wanted to see that evil smirk on her face again.

Lightning-fast, he hurled the ball of energy at her, but she ducked, and it blew a hole in the wall behind her, demolishing the cubbies and the Lego bin on the way.

“You goddamn sonofabitch. Do you have any idea how expensive those fucking Legos were? I’m so going to make you pay for that…” Rey promised, licking her lips as dark power flooded her.

She gathered her own ball of energy, similar to his, and flung it at him.

He laughed and sprang out of the way before it blasted into the wall behind him, snapping and crackling through the brick exterior wall like a cannonball through wet paper.

“There are only so many places where it could be, baby… Give it to me…” Goddamn, she was sexy like this.

His thoughts must have shown on his face because she snarled at him and reached for magic, letting it well into her, filling her and crackling around her like an aura of irresistible white light…

His arms lowered, and he cocked his head.

She inhaled, and she was doing something, something she shouldn’t be doing, something dangerous and she was pulling him in with those gorgeous hazel eyes…

She breathed out and the air in the room softened, lightened.

Her hair floated around her, rising from her scalp in lustrous waves, sizzling like static electricity. Her eyes glowed and burned and pulled him to her like a magnet…

 _Siren’s eyes_ , he thought. _Oh. Shit._

She opened her mouth and a lullaby, sweet and soothing, hit his ears.

It was so fucking beautiful.

 _Kiss me_ , she invited.

_Rey. Sweetheart, no…_

Her hand scrabbled for an object on her desk.

A harmonica, he noted idly, not caring… because she was smiling at him, begging him with her eyes to come closer, and how could he fucking resist, he couldn’t, oh, shit…

She stood before him and stroked a soft hand down his cheek, lightly resting her palm over his thumping heart, before snatching his hand, still singing, holding him with her glowing eyes…

 _I am hypnotized_ , he realized vaguely…

She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed the tip of his loosely curled finger with a gentle sigh.

Then she sucked his finger into her warm wet mouth and he groaned loudly at the exquisite pressure of her tongue.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of her pink lips wrapped around his finger…

Until she bit him, hard enough to draw blood, jarring him awake with the pain of the dull puncture.

_No! Rey! Wait!_

Before he could stop her, she wrapped her mouth around it and sucked on the bloody wound.

“Off you go to dreamland…” she whispered. Her eyes glinted with spite and he panicked as he comprehended exactly what she’d done…

If she didn’t bring him back…he’d be trapped there forever…

She loomed over him, mercilessly. Watching with catlike curiosity as he fell to his knees.

She followed him to the floor, resting his head in her lap as he gasped desperately for her to understand, to not do this…to help him…

_Go to sleep, you bastard._

His eyes began to flutter closed and he fought as hard as he could against the magic she’d taken and turned on him…Shit.

He clutched at her jacket with one hand. _Rey. That was such a mistake…_

 _We’ll see_ , she returned coldly.

His other hand grappled for the Lamp in a last-ditch effort to save himself… his head was starting to spin.

Not much time, now.

She kissed his forehead as he gripped her jacket harder, attempting to distract her.

_You’re. Going. To. Regret…_

He fumbled with the Zippo, unable to keep his eyes open for much longer…

_You wily bitch._

“Shhhhhh,” she whispered, absorbed in the act of combing back his hair from his face.

He flicked the lighter open, clumsily snapping his thumb over the flint. It didn’t strike a flame until the third try.

When it did, her eyes flew to his in shock and he grinned arrogantly at her moue of surprise.

“Oh, no!” she moaned softly.

_Oh, yes…Genie of the Lamp…_

“Come for me, then, baby. I’ll be waiting for you,” he demanded before falling unconscious against her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thank you to @avidvampirehunter for the suggestion to make the book club chat members the Knights of Ren...brilliant and fun. Thank you, my dear! XOXO!


	9. Death and the Maiden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers: Note the title of the chapter and updated tags. (Also, please note the LACK of certain tags, specifically for non-con, etc.) As a few have asked, I would like to reiterate: I will NEVER add what I call the “game-changer” tags in a fic halfway through (i.e. Non-con/Major Character Death, etc.). 
> 
> I WILL reserve the right to add non-spoiley tags, as needed, but with a notice thereof at the beginning of the chapter or fic. 
> 
> That being said. This story is going to take a darkish turn (How much darker can we get, you ask? He's the fucking Devil...So, pretty dark, I reply...) Anyhow, I hope you will stay with me through it.
> 
> This was not an easy chapter to write, but it does move the overall story in the direction I want to go… So…buckle up…and remember I love you. Everything is probably going to be fine.
> 
> XOXO

**Hamlin Elementary School…**

Rey let the dark magic she’d gathered around herself fade, cradling his head in her lap as he slept. She would need to enter his dream soon. She already felt the call of the Lamp’s magic itching at the back of her neck, compelling her to fulfill Kylo’s final command.

Her so-called _master_.

She sighed and wondered idly how long she had before the police arrived.

Memories that did not belong to her swarmed through her mind, and she ruminated on _him_ – the Prince from a land far away – and the circumstances which had brought him to this place.

She focused on a particular memory of his that she'd glimpsed when she’d fought with him in her dream. Some of his thoughts had been clear as day, and others had been hazy as she’d forced him to retreat, like a cornered animal to his den, snapping and snarling until she’d moved on…

She recalled a solemn child of perhaps eight or nine. A beautiful, gangly, dark-haired boy filled with a deep curiosity and a sad wisdom beyond his years.

_The boy had been dreaming near a window in the tower of the castle, gazing through the stained-glass panes, pondering the colors and wondering if magic had color to it. Daydreaming and wondering when his mother would return._

_When a butterfly fluttered past his distracted gaze, he’d caught it unthinking. He’d opened his cupped hands to look at it, noticing the powdery substance the tiny creature had left behind on his hands._

_The butterfly had been so beautiful, brightly-flecked with orange and yellow and underscored by patterns of deep black._

_Fascinated, the boy stroked his fingers over the silky wings, scraping the powder off._

_It was his, that butterfly, and it was so pretty…his heart pattered with excitement. He would keep the lovely little creature for company. He might keep it for a while, if only he knew how to care for it…and then he could look at it whenever he wanted, and the lovely colors would remind him of the burgeoning magic he sensed inside himself._

_But far too soon, he realized the pretty creature was broken, somehow. It could not fly._

_He'd broken it._

_Deeply concerned, he brought it to his father, who happened to be in residence for a change. He knew his father would probably be out with his falcon on a sunny afternoon like today._

_“Dad, look what I found…a butterfly,” he’d said, approaching his father cautiously on a sunny hill just outside the castle. Han Solo had proclaimed often and loudly that falcons were his preferred company to people._

_“Hey, look at that,” Han said off-handedly, his gaze never leaving his favored peregrine as it swooped in the air above them._

_“It can’t fly anymore. Can you fix it?” His dad could make anything fly again. Ben hoped._

_Han glanced at his son’s dust-speckled hands and shook his head at the twitching butterfly._

_“No, son. That butterfly will never fly again. You’ve rubbed all the powder off its wings…you see?” Han was not unsympathetic and became visibly perplexed as tears of shame and bewilderment welled in his boy’s eyes._

_“Hey, hey, hey…Don’t start crying on me, kid. It’s just a bug. It's nothing. Pretty though…” Han returned his attention to the sky and Ben turned away, staring remorsefully at the dying creature in his hands._

_He’d killed it. He hadn’t meant to. But his beautiful little creature would never fly again…_

_“Now stand up straight like the prince you are and go change into something fancy, kid. Your mother will be home later today, and she’ll probably be expecting the royal welcome…” Han grumbled, but Ben was too heartbroken to care._

_He walked away, still holding the butterfly in his hands… “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, tears streaming down his face._

_He knew it was just a stupid bug. But still. It made him dreadfully sad he’d done something so careless as…break it. And sadder still nobody even cared..._

Rey's heart sank as she recalled her more recent conversation with Kylo from last Friday.

_“What do you get out of all this?”_

_“Me? I get a very pretty little toy to play with.”_

_“…And I should warn you. I tend to break my things…”_

When she’d called him out on his callousness, he’d just looked at her, lips slightly parted.

_“I shouldn’t have said that…I’m. So sorry.”_

He’d appeared truly apologetic, appalled with himself.

The Prince had been more a slave than anyone … in that _other_ kingdom. Overindulged and selfish, yes. But trapped just as much as if he’d been chained.

In many ways, Rey could understand him. She had felt his awful, aching loneliness, not just in his memories, but in direct sympathy with her own isolated existence.

She was no stranger to longing and dreaming and solitude, to being obligated to another, more powerful person to survive. And, _he’d_ been living with his pain for several eternities…

Even worse, she sensed from him a desperate need for her to understand. Not just anyone, but _her_ , specifically.

Which was why him using the Lamp on her was such a violation. So unforgivable.

But Luke…he’d done basically the same thing. Luke had tried to manipulate her into killing Kylo Ren at Leia’s house last night… She recalled the desire to strike him down and how it had not been her own.

Rey strongly suspected her little stunt with the Siren just now might have been prompted by Luke, as well.

After Maz’s, when she had returned to Leia’s house, Luke would have known Rey had absorbed some of Kylo’s powers… Luke could have planted the idea of a Siren in her mind right before she’d drifted off…

If Luke couldn’t kill him outright – _just the mortal part_ – he would send Kylo to the dream world forever, instead.

And, Rey couldn’t forget how Leia had sent her on the errand to Maz’s, embroiling her in this whole new clusterfuck.

_The entire family is just a bunch of manipulative assholes…_

Rey sighed, looking around her destroyed classroom. Holdo was going to be pissed.

Rey needed to decide.

Kylo had ordered her to come for him, but she knew she really didn’t have to…not now. She could take the Lamp and the…she looked at the harmonica on the edge of her desk and called it to her hand.

Not a harmonica, not really. A magic harp...

When it had appeared on her desk on her first day of teaching, Rey had assumed it was a gift. Now she knew it was just one more of the Sandman’s machinations…

She swept it away into _that_ place, that _other elsewhere_ , as Kylo had done before. Rey wasn’t sure where she’d sent it, but she was positive she would be able to call it to her again, should she wish.

Nonetheless, it was a dangerous thing to leave lying around. Rey was a dangerous thing, too.

It struck her that Kylo might have guessed Luke might have enchanted her. He would have seen and understood the danger instantly, and he’d tried to net her with magic…

Kylo had been waiting for her to try to kill him again.

Which she had done.

That was why he’d surrounded himself with the children… He had been preempting his own protection against _her_ , not to hurt _them_ …

And she’d sent him into the dream world…to be alone...

She could leave him there, she realized.

He’d done terrible things. This world would not miss a monster capable of such mass-destruction…

But Kylo had also mentioned paying a visit to her ex. 

He’d been right when he’d called DJ a piece of shit. A tiny part of her was intensely curious…what had he done to DJ?

Kylo’s dark head lolled heavily in her lap and she scrutinized his beautiful features as he slept.

A breeze from the hole she’d blown in the side of the school drifted in, ruffling his silky hair under her fingertips.

She’d never seen him asleep before.

It softened the angular lines of his face, and without the intense fire in his eyes, inevitably directed at her with such laser-like focus, he seemed almost boyish…less monstrous.

It was difficult to look at his long, curly eyelashes and softly curved lips, slightly parted in sleep, and believe he was evil. _Hades…the butcher, the beast…_

It was hard to believe the man before her, who had once cried because he’d accidentally brushed the dust off a butterfly’s wings, was a _monster_.

And it was harder still to imagine him being left all alone to wander through a nightmare for eternity.

Because in her mind being left alone was the worst possible fate imaginable.

And he was the only one who had ever, ever come for her.

If nothing else, she owed him the same.

Before her better judgment or someone else could change her mind, Rey marched across the room to her desk, now partially covered in debris, and opened her top drawer.

She removed a pair of scissors – real ones, not the safety scissors the kids used – and contemplated the razor-sharp edge for a long moment…

Then, she knelt next to Kylo and poked the tip of her finger, a hard jab – _worry about Tetanus later_ – observing as a drop of blood appeared on her finger…

Slowly, as if entranced, she painted his full bottom lip, so soft and luscious, red with her blood.

Then, she pushed her finger into his warm, wet mouth and whispered, _“Suck.”_

A surge of wetness between her legs followed a clenching ache low in her belly and she moaned loudly at the heady sensation of his mouth pulling on her… _Oh! Damn, that felt so good_ …

…and then, before she knew what to do next, the room around her dissolved in smoke and red sparks, and a diesel smell assaulted her nostrils.

She fell fast and hard through the swirling dark, and she found herself thrown roughly onto the freezing-cold floor of a snowy forest, naked and dizzy.

And completely alone.

**In a Realm Beyond Mortal Boundaries…**

He was never supposed to fall in love with her.

He had been born to do one thing. Play the role of hero and unite the Realm in eternal peace.

Since childhood, he’d been revered, spoiled, and worshipped by the people of his kingdom who were strangers to him. 

While his own family worked tirelessly to stop the War and kept him waiting in the wings until it was time for him to fulfil his destiny, he grew up surrounded by others, a lonely, unrelatable child who never really fit in with the servants’ children and was only encouraged to mingle with those of his status and class.

But, he was _different_ , and he felt it. Acutely.

It was worse, somehow, when his father stayed behind while his mother was off politicking, observing Ben's training from the background. Han Solo had no idea how to raise a prince and frequently and _vocally_ rued the fact, albeit with a touch of sarcasm. As if Han's humorous self-deprecation would mitigate the fact he’d come from the wrong side of the sheets and had found himself in an unfamiliar world. 

When it came to feeling out of place, Ben and his father had much in common, and yet Ben had always keenly felt the valley of detachment between them, a gaping hole that left Ben uncomfortably aware of their growing distance.

Compassion for his father’s so-called plight was difficult to find by the time Ben Solo had turned fourteen and realized his own father was just as much a stranger to him as were the people of his kingdom.

The closest thing Ben had to a steady friend was his uncle, who took him nearly every day for training in the Jedi religion, the Texts, and, eventually, when Ben showed an aptitude for it, story-writing. _Skywalking_ , his uncle called it.

But Luke withheld much more than he taught his nephew, which only frustrated Ben. As time went on, Ben chose to shirk his lessons more and more frequently in favor of training in the arts of war.

This was not entirely frowned upon by Ben’s parents; the War showed no sign of waning and if Ben were to inherit the kingdom someday, his knowledge in battle and strategy would prove invaluable in protecting the people of the realm.

He loved his mother, but he also felt a vague sense of betrayal. Ben had always felt like a weapon, a tool in his mother’s hands, to be wielded at the appropriate time.

He loved his father, but he found himself growing ever-angrier as Han Solo avoided him.

Ben’s barren life was forged in duty, an endless service to people who cared nothing for his personal wants and emotional needs to belong somewhere, to someone, the feelings in his heart, his deep desire to do right but by his own choice. Ben was trapped, and he resented it. He did not fit in this place.

And once the seed of bitterness was planted, Ben rebelled. But quietly.

Ben found a type of solace in the embraces of courtesans and in hanging around the raucous, sometimes drunken, rough-speaking knights who constantly moved through the castle and always welcomed his money, if not his company. And eventually in learning secrets from the sorcerer who lived in the darkest part of the forest.

Ben had taken more and more often to riding out alone, spending time in the forest. The still darkness of the place called to him.

One day, he stumbled upon a mirrored pool, formed by a spring of crystal-clear waters, a magical place. When the wise old voice spoke to him from the reflection in the pool, Ben felt…maybe he’d found something _extraordinary_.

He would have mentioned the place to his uncle, but Luke was always so hesitant to discuss new magics, especially from the dark forest, which Luke constantly reminded Ben to steer clear from.

Meetings with the sorcerer were always troubling, but exciting, and Ben never questioned the oddity of how communication with the old man was necessitated through the reflecting pool.

But the old sorcerer was always there when Ben approached, and he always listened…and he was willing to show Ben things of dark magic that did not seem so dark at all. Just _different_.

Like how Ben was different.

Ben had never met the sorcerer in person…until that day…

The day of Ben’s secret wedding.

The day Ben made a trade that would alter the fates of so many souls, he could not measure the number...and he’d done it all for just one…

**Death’s Lair**

He found her naked and alone, passed out in the lifeless forest, her pale skin gleaming against the slightly paler snow.

A foul reddish-orange glow filled the horizon and provided a modicum of light, but he did not need light in this place, not that much ever permeated the darkness.

The shadows of this place held no secrets from him.

He surveyed her prone, unconscious form and found himself simultaneously dismayed and infuriated she’d managed to arrive here. And more than a little… _pleased_.

She’d come for him, despite her strength that might have helped her overcome the Lamp’s magic.

Logically, he knew his gambit with the Lamp would have hurt him, either way. Either she’d have resisted the Lamp’s magic and ignored his command to come and get him, or she’d have arrived here and put herself at his mercy. Of which he had very little, at the moment.

She’d tried to kill him. Twice, if he counted the previous evening at his mother’s house when she’d nearly taken his head off with the candlestick…and the vase…

Every vengeful, covetous, devouring, passionate instinct in him rose to the surface and crawled under his skin like fire.

She was _his_ …and he would not allow her out of his sight again…

He knelt in the snow and lifted her limp form into the cradle of his arms, crushing her soft curves against his hardened strength, then strode resolutely back through the blackened skeletons of dead trees and soot-covered snow to the only shelter nearby.

Once again, he considered how difficult it would be to control his own ravenous urges, particularly here. Now they were in his dream, where he was truly Master of all…and he had his whip, which would offer its own temptations...

She had no idea the danger she was in just being here. 

He carried her through the doorway of the humble hut, lightly nudging the door shut with the toe of his boot.

The place greatly resembled Rey’s hut by the old mill, only it held none of the friendly warmth of her former home. Holes in the thatched roof allowed snow and soot to drift through, and the hearth was a cold and empty tomb.

Kylo lay her carefully on the narrow cot across from the door and swept off his tattered, hooded cowl. He draped it over her as an odd protectiveness momentarily ambushed him.

He wondered if she had considered _not_ coming for him and unabated rage flared through him.

He had once told her he tended to break his things…

…and he’d never wanted to break something so badly as he did now. But he would try not to.

He really, really would have to try.

 

**In a Realm Beyond Mortal Boundaries…**

Their relationship, while forbidden and clandestine, was the only thing in his life belonging entirely to him.

She was the only person in his life, ever, who did not judge him, reprimand, or even care if he went astray from the strict social and moral requirements his position entailed. The only times she mentioned concerns related to his position were when she worried how it might affect his life, how he might be hurt.

Rey was the only person who had no expectations or preconceived ideas about how he might be useful to some worlds-altering plot; she looked at him and saw just him.

She did not expect him to solve her problems or be anyone other than who he was. And as the weeks and months went by, he found himself addicted to the feeling of just being himself, of being free to talk of the deep ache in his heart left by his family, of his desire to live as a normal man not under the rule of some ancient Texts that pre-dictated his existence in some hero’s role with which he had always been vaguely uncomfortable. Her only expectation of him was to be with her in any stolen moment he could find, and she happily waited for those moments without rebuke or demand for excuses or apology.

He wanted to pursue his interests in exploring the realms of magic, and he knew, had he told her of it, she would have understood that pull to the dark, just as he was pulled to her light.

She trusted him, too. With her secret longings, her insecurities and feelings of abandonment by her family. She was not ashamed to be a peasant, but she told him once she did not deserve him. How could she say such a thing, when she deserved everything? Anything he had, he would gladly give her, anything she needed, he would gladly provide.

But, she refused to take gifts or money from him, vowing only to hold his Bride Gifts as a ransom for his continued return to her. The only thing she wanted from him was himself. And damn, if that wasn’t the most amazing feeling in the world.

He’d given her items of value beyond any person’s ability to comprehend. She could have taken them and sold them off and lived a life of luxury and he would not have been able to stop her.

But she’d kept them in a rough wooden box at the foot of her bed, unconcerned for the wealth and opportunity those objects presented. 

And while she’d first followed protocol and bowed as was expected of her, she had shown no real fear over the fact his position of power should have let him take whatever he wanted the first time they met. She’d even held off his increasingly passionate embraces, knowing if they were to truly be together it would have to be legal and real. Because it would mean something. To both of them.

She’d kept herself for him. Waited for him. Cared for him.

And he’d done the same for her. He’d wanted her, and he could have taken her at any time with zero repercussions. He could have married the Princess and kept Rey as his mistress and had the best of both worlds.

But instead he chose to try to find a way to be hers and hers alone, just as she would be his.

Ben had always had the clear notion the women he fucked either had a hidden agenda or an outright motive. It had never bothered him before because he understood the ways of the world. Sex was an exchange. A few coins or a promised favor at court would bring him a moment of release, an easing of physical tension brought on after a hard day’s training or because he wanted to exhaust himself until he slept dreamlessly or simply because he felt like it.

And if the women he fucked found pleasure in his arms, then lucky them and so much the better for him, if not on some base emotional level than at least on a physical one.

But with Rey, he knew it would be different. And it terrified him.

He had no problem with the idea of initiating her into sex – the act itself would validate their belonging to each other. Taking her virginity would be a testament to their bond, and would in many ways define them both, he knew. And he wanted her, body and soul. Particularly as the months dragged by and his acquisition of dark magic drew out the more…animalistic elements of his personality. The Dark Side was dangerously seductive, and he fought constantly against his ever-overwhelming need to possess her.

No, what concerned him was knowing her responses and reactions would not be feigned to heighten his sexual gratification or as a performance designed to boost his ego. Nor would she allow him to use her body in exchange for trinkets or coin or a position at court, not that he would ever want her to.

But, if he reflected upon the moment he kissed her for the first time... Her breathless innocence had not been faked, and the burgeoning passion in her eyes had been genuine, not a product of something he’d bought and paid for.

She only wanted him. And he wasn’t sure he was good enough. No. He was _positive_ he wasn’t good enough.

He hated himself for not coming to her pure, as she would be for him. The things he’d done out of base need and reckless want – a self-indulgent prince who could have anything, anyone – those acts had lowered him, and for the first time in his life, he felt ashamed, soiled. Blighted.

In this, they would not be equals, and he wanted their foundation to be built upon even footing with each other.

But, when he spoke to her about it, she’d merely cocked her head at him and smiled and said, “The past is past. I love you for yourself, my Prince, not the sins or unrighteous actions you’ve committed thereof…” And he’d hugged her out of sheer gratitude, never having felt such a sense of acceptance before.

Then she’d smiled impishly at him and twisted a lock of his hair around her finger, and pulled him close, whispering against his mouth, “Besides…it’s probably good at least one of us knows what we’re doing, yes?”

Unexpected laughter burst out of him, and he felt relieved and calmed and head over heels for this girl who seemed to know just the words to speak to him, just the way to drag him from his gloomy internal solitude, where he tended to sullenly exile himself whenever he felt overwhelmed by the weighty expectations of his position.

She was the light of his life, and he adored her.

After they’d made their wedding vows to each other, something so sacred and profound it had left him shaken, he’d kissed her, and she’d kissed him back so tenderly he could feel the foul corruption of dark bitterness lodged in his heart fade…

He'd carefully urged her to lie back onto her bed, pushing his cape from her shoulders, and reveled in the love reflected in her eyes.

He wanted her, and he could have her now, and it would be uncorrupted and pure and whole and _theirs_. His heart thundered in his chest as he stroked her soft face, her silky hair.

He would never get enough of her.

She reached for him, tentatively, plucking at his tunic with curious hands.

His own hands trembled as he pulled his tunic over his head, shaking out his hair as her fingertips trailed over his chest. And that unschooled touch made his head spin.

He snatched her hand in his, kissing her work-roughened palm, and marveled at the delicate bones and graceful shape, so different from his own brutishly large hands. Her callouses would fade, he promised himself, and she would never want for anything again.

He hovered over her, careful not to frighten her with his size. He could easily overwhelm her physically and the last thing he wanted was for her to fear him.

But her hands were everywhere, roaming over him in fascination and making him so hard he hurt from it.

“I want you so much,” he murmured as her nails lightly scraped along his arms.

“Then you should take me, Ben,” she whispered, eyes shining into his like beacons. “I want you, too…I just…”

But he was pushing up the long, shapeless sleep gown up her legs and his touch made her gasp.

He’d never seen a prettier leg, and so he kissed it.

“You just…? What is it?” he asked, stopping to kiss her knee, also a work of art, in his opinion.

“I just, I just hope, ohhhhh –” His open mouth lingered on the tender spot just inside her thigh and he was going to start drooling like an animal any second, now, because she was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted…

He moaned and licked the soft skin just a bit further up… also delicious.

“You hope what, sweetheart?”

He was not going to be able to speak for much longer.

“I hope I don’t disappoint you,” she murmured, grasping his head to catch his gaze seriously.

There was no chance of that happening, whatsoever.

“How can I be disappointed with perfection?” he asked, stroking his tongue over her inner thigh.

But she couldn’t answer, because he’d pushed her gown up further and finally caught a glimpse of what he’d been dreaming about for months. He felt like a rampaging beast...

A bead of sweat broke out on his forehead. 

She was gorgeous, all hidden mystery under a feather-soft patch of hair shielding sweet pink lips that peeked through the rounded flesh between her legs…he wanted nothing more than to plow into her and sate himself…

But he’d be damned if he didn’t make sure she was good and ready for him first. He wondered if she would object if he put his mouth on her…

“Um. Is everything okay?” she asked. Not a drop of passion in her voice.

 _Damn._ Deflowering her was going to be more difficult than he’d thought.

Debauching a virgin, wife or no, was going to be an exercise in extreme self-control. He drew in just a touch of magic to strengthen his resolve and felt his lust ratchet up several notches.

He looked up into her wide-eyed gaze.

Kissing. Kissing was always a good thing. She liked kissing, he knew.

He crawled up to hover over her again, setting his lips over her mouth until she moaned into his. He pushed his tongue against her lips and she opened for him, just as he’d taught her months ago.

She tasted so good he was dangerously close to losing his mind.

Her hands threaded into his hair, and he settled himself on her just a bit more, letting the heat of her body brush against his naked chest.

That was going to undo him, for sure.

So, he had the brilliant idea to flip onto his back, dragging her on top of him.

Her hair curtained over him, tickling at his ribs, and he carefully pulled it to the side, out of the way, wrapping it in a loose knot around his fist.

She liked that, he could tell because she immediately started kissing his neck and his collarbone and his chest and _fuck_ she was going to kill him. That gown of hers was riding up and he could feel the silky warmth of her thighs at his sides.

He let out an involuntary hiss of pleasure, and she tensed.

“Am I doing this right?” she asked curiously. He gulped.

“Hell yes,” he grunted, releasing her hair.

He slid his hands under her gown and ran them along the outsides of her thighs. She tensed and sat up.

“You, um. Sweetheart, maybe you should take this thing off,” he suggested cautiously. He tugged at the gown and her face turned beet red.

She sat up, right on top of his raging erection, and stripped out of the gown.

_Shy and brave. What an amazing girl._

The sight of her naked on top of him almost made him swallow his tongue.

She dropped her gown over the edge of the bed, then covered her breasts with her hands, self-conscious as hell, he could tell.

That just made it worse. Damn, he _wanted_ her.

“Let me see you, sweetheart. Please,” he begged, sweeping his hands over hers, moving them down.

She was so lovely. He was going to write stories and dreams about those breasts, pages and pages of adoration for the sweet, round shape of her, the dusky-pink tips. He groaned and brushed his thumbs along her velvety skin.

“Rey. You’re so beautiful,” he ground out, teasing his thumbs over her nipples. She pushed into his hands, eagerly, now. “Come here.”

She leaned over him and he caught her mouth with his, every nerve-ending in his body on fire. He plundered her mouth with his tongue, just a bit more intrusively than he had ever done before. She moaned into him and he drew her down onto him, gripping her sides to hold her against him.

She pushed her tongue into his mouth and he ran his hands down to cup around her ass.

The sensation of her pebbled nipples rubbing against him made any remaining blood he had rush straight to his groin.

Careful not to snag her hair, he rolled her under him again, this time going for a more in-depth assault on her senses.

Her thighs naturally parted a bit as he settled himself against her, more boldly this time, a little less patient.

"You're so soft...finer than silk..." he whispered, scuffing his face against the soft contours of her neck and shoulders, letting her feel the rough textures of him, the contrast between them. She moaned and arched against him, and he knew it was real, what she felt. She liked it.

She liked _him_.

Heady power filled him like strong wine, and he captured her hands in his, pinning them to either side of her head before he kissed her again, rubbing his aching groin against the softness between her legs.

She returned his kiss voraciously, and it occurred to him she might like to be overwhelmed, just a bit. _How intriguing_.

He knew some women liked that, and he definitely liked doing it. Especially with Rey. 

Lust spiked into him, hard.

He pressed her down a little more and she arched her hips into him.

“You like it when I do that?” he whispered into her neck. “When I hold you down like this?”

“Mmmm. Yes…Is that okay?” she whispered back, and then she bit into his shoulder. Softly. But it was enough to encourage him.

“Oh, yes,” he agreed. “Everything’s okay. Anything you want.”

She bit him again, and he scraped his teeth along her neck.

“You tell me if I do something you don’t like. Promise?” he muttered, sucking her earlobe into his mouth. She gasped, and her hands clutched into his. “Or if I do something you _do_ like…”

He did it again and she moaned so prettily he had to stop, or he was going to come in his pants.

He moved down to her breasts and pulled a nipple into his mouth and she squealed.

_She likes that, too._

He did it again, gripping her hands in his, pushing his hips into her until she rubbed herself against him, trying to get as much contact as she could.

He reached between them, fumbling with the closures of his trousers, kissing every bit of skin he could reach as he stripped himself of clothing.

His breathing hitched when he lay on top of her again, and this time the skin on skin contact simmered his blood in undiluted lust as he ground his aching hardness against her writhing body.

He slipped his hand between her legs and carefully prodded at her, seeking, searching for the wet heat of her and she groaned and squirmed under his hand instinctively.

When he found the slippery wetness he sought, he gasped and kissed her again, all sense of restraint long gone.

He watched her face as he pushed a finger inside and knew he would never know a more perfect moment of anticipation.

He dragged his finger, slick with her, over the sensitive bundle of nerves of her sex. She twitched and cried out his name and he did it again, enchanted as her eyes darkened and grew vague, just so he could hear his name on her lips over and over, like a song.

She understood what he was doing, and she wanted him to do more and her whispered, “please…” was all he needed to pin her hands down with one of his and drag his cock along the dripping seam between her legs…

“You feel so good, sweetheart… You know this next part might hurt, yes?” he asked, on the very brink of losing his mind at the thought that she was letting him take her, that she wanted him to have her, such an overwhelming gift and honor he would never be able to repay it, the precious value of it incomparable to anything anyone had ever given him…He wasn't worthy of it, not even close, and still he wanted it desperately...

“Yes…I want you, Ben…I want to be yours...belong to you...” she cried out as he stroked her again, pressing the head of his erection carefully just _there_ …

He choked out a breath of pure pleasure, and he was sliding into her, and fuck she was tight, and he knew it was hurting her, but she wrapped her legs around him, sensing his hesitation, and she lifted her hips and he sank home on a ragged groan as he felt himself breach her maidenhead…

She tensed and yelped at the pain of it.

He froze, dead-still when a tear slid down her face. _Oh, no._

“…I’m sorry, oh, sweetheart, dammit,” he clenched his jaw, his whole body quivering to hold himself still against her soft, clutching heat… He wouldn’t move if it would hurt her again. Not if it killed him.

He was going to die from this, he knew it.

She took a shuddering breath and stared into his eyes. “Are…we done? Is that it?”

“No,” he whispered softly, kissing the tear from her cheek. “This is…”

And he dragged himself out of her and pushed back in and she screamed his name.

“…that okay?” he grunted, pushing her hands down as he shifted his hips for a better angle.

“Yes…oh, Ben!” she sobbed and writhed and welcomed him in…and he was lost.

Her moans echoed into his deeper, throatier grunts.

He really tried to go as gently as he could, but she was fierce and loud and fucking perfect, and he couldn’t stop…

He knew the likelihood of a virgin having an orgasm was slim to none the first time, but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t try to make her happy.

Sweat poured down his face and he looked down to where their bodies met, noticing streak of red on his cock as he plunged into her again and again, wringing gasps and cries from her that punctuated the excruciating pleasure of taking her.

The sight of himself pushing into her, possessing her, of knowing what it meant, shredded his control.

_She’s mine._

He released her hands and braced himself over her, thrusting harder now, leaning into her and kissing her neck and bowing his back until he could suck on her breasts and she pulsed around him and gave him passionate groans…until he felt her flexing and fluttering around him and he knew she was close.

“Yes, yes, ohhhhh, yes, sweetheart, you feel so good, Rey, just give me…give me… _yesss_ …” he growled.

She looked dazed and lost and he knew she was with him. He reached between them and stroked her clit and sucked on her nipple until she clenched on him so hard he could feel her falling apart, squeezing him, and he was coming, and they were _each other’s_ and it was so _fucking_ good and right…and he released himself into her with a shout of excruciating pleasure.

He would never get over it.

By the way she was clutching him to her and gasping and sobbing, she wouldn’t ever get over it, either.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from hers as they strained and gasped together mutually prolonging that moment of togetherness, of communion, then slowed, coming down together with whispered _I love you’s_ and _you’re amazing_ …

And Ben Solo, Prince of Alderaan, Royal Highness of Coruscant, heir to a kingdom, would worship this peasant girl for the rest of his life.

Which is why it had been such a blow to him when he’d returned for her the next day and she’d utterly disappeared…

Such a betrayal had been so unexpected…so treacherous.

Was it any wonder he’d pursued her so relentlessly through time and space itself, throwing himself into endless stories to play the role of monster and beast, always hunting, sensing she was close, never finding, hoping maybe next time?

Not only had she tricked him, crushed his heart, and then disappeared with the unimaginable wealth he’d blindly handed to her, but she’d continued to elude him, with the help of his uncle, he was sure of it.

Even worse, he'd still wanted her desperately. He'd still loved her and had only to find her, so he could make her _understand_ … He could forgive her if only she would _let him_.

But Snoke owned a part of him, and Kylo Ren was bound to serve until he’d fulfilled his pact and brought the anchors to his master.

Snoke’s generosity grew into disappointment, then spite, then wrath, as Kylo attempted to explain to his once-sympathetic master how difficult it was to perform his chosen role.

His master would not release him, Kylo knew and didn’t even bother to ask for a reprieve.

 _Weak-willed, foolish, pathetic._ Snoke knew him all too well, and for a while, Kylo survived in his loneliness on a single sustaining thought: Something must have happened to her. She couldn’t have just left him without reason. It had to have been real. He just had to find her. Complete his end of the bargain and then they could be together, and finally his aching loneliness and horrible suffering could end…

Love and vengeance became a potent combination and fueled his resolve like nothing else. His master was impressed, at first, then increasingly disappointed as Kylo continued to return to him empty-handed. They plotted together, each time the storyline reset itself, and Kylo grew increasingly anxious to extricate himself from the horrors he had volunteered to perform.

Time meant nothing in the Realm Beyond Mortal Boundaries, but in other realms time dragged so slowly, Kylo was sure it moved backward or stood still.

He learned how to harness the darkest powers in the universe and grew so formidable he was second only to Snoke in his ability to control the Underworld’s creatures and the black magic that flowed through that nightmare place.

Snoke never hesitated to remind Kylo Ren his circumstances were solely a result of Kylo’s own choice, surely a spoiled prince could show more fortitude rather than give up so easily… and so each time he returned with no sign of the anchors he’d originally promised to retrieve so quickly or easily, nor with any indication of the whereabouts of the girl, his failure became even more outstanding.

And his heart became just a bit more _infected_ , soured with hate and despair, until only a small kernel of hope remained, buried deep inside under layers of wrath and vengeance.

He became _adamantine_ , unbreakable, unconquerable, Lord of Darkness. Master of Death, even.

It twisted him and hardened him, and his dogged tenacity grew into something beyond determination.

He would find those anchors and find her…

…and then he’d drag her down into eternal hell with him if it was the last thing he did.

 

Rey lay quietly under the rough blanket covering her and listened to the sounds of a fire crackling nearby. Shadows danced brightly under her eyelids and she could not help shivering as a strong sensation of danger assailed her consciousness.

“You’re awake.” She recognized his deep voice instantly. The second he spoke, she felt tendrils of magic flow around her, locking her in place. She tried to move but found it only further tightened her bonds.

_His dream, then. Damn._

But she already knew there was no way she could have left him here to rot…she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Although, now they were both here, and she had not a clue how to get them out. She needed his help, for him to show her what to do.

She reached out with her mind and was met with an impenetrable wall, harder than diamonds.

He knelt just beyond her line of sight, in the shadows. She could tell he was kneeling by the location of his voice. But it did not still her sense of danger.

The silence, but for the snap and flare of the fire in the hearth, stretched into minutes as she tried frantically to figure out how to extricate herself from her position…

“You can try. It won’t work.” He sighed, then asked, “You still want to kill me?”

_Careful, Rey. This is not like before. Something’s different._

He knelt next to her by the bed, and she felt his hand comb her hair back from her forehead.

His warm breath filled her ear as he whispered, “You made such a huge mistake, sweetheart. You should not have sent me here…”

His hand twisted in the air next to her and she knew he’d just pulled the Lamp from the air. “And, you _really_ shouldn’t have come to me here…with _this_.”

His voice had taken on a hypnotic cadence, conversational and polite, which was infinitely more terrifying than his typical Machiavellian sarcasm or loosely-harnessed fury…he just sounded so…coldly predatory…

 _Fuck_.

Sweat broke out on her forehead as she felt his nose push gently behind her ear. A soft inhale and an almost imperceptible hum from the back of his throat…then another…

 _“Ohhhhh_ , that was such a _bad_ _idea_ …”

Rey’s heart, already thumping hard, skipped a beat as the heat of him touched her and his silky hair tickled the side of her neck.

He sniffed her again and murmured, “A grievous error in judgment…”

Dread scuttled into her bones, sinking its teeth in with such finality, she shivered.

“Ben, I –”

“Oh. No…You shouldn’t call me that right now. I don’t think I’ve been _him_ for a long time…Not really.”

Wolfish excitement crackled off him like raw electricity, agitating every nerve ending in her body. She tried again to struggle from his bond, but he merely huffed.

If she could just turn her head, see him, catch his eyes…perhaps she could…

She felt him breathe her scent again and wild terror hit her in waves.

“Ben…Kylo…please just let me explain…”

“I’m _so not interested_ in your explanations right now. You should probably stop talking...”

A pause.

“I swear it, I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

“You _swear_? I know the exact value of your worthless vows…” He spat on the ground next to her and she flinched. It was such a vulgar, uncharacteristic thing for him to do, spitting like that.

Something was dreadfully wrong. He had never broken his mask of urbane sarcasm before. Not even when he’d been obviously upset with her – even then, he’d retreated into mocking laughter and crude sexual overtures. Even his brooding scolds were better than this…whatever this was.

He laughed outright then, a harsh, cutting sound that rent the air in deeply bitter pulses.

She felt a soft touch, irresistibly, achingly tender, along the side of her neck. His hand? His lips?

“Do you know what it’s like to have your mind broken?” he asked curiously, pulling away. “Not broken into. But, really _broken?_ ”

“No…” she whispered. _Why is he asking me that?_

Vague recollections of his terrible suffering came forth, unbidden.  _A twisted creature on a throne, cruel and mocking. Hurting him. Tormenting him._

Was that what he meant? Was he going to do that…to her?

“We came so close…that time. In your dream…fuck, you almost went over the edge of sanity…but not quite…it was good you listened to me then, at the end.”

She remembered. Vividly. He’d begged her to make room for him, and he’d taken a piece of her…in exchange for part of him…

His voice grew cold as a winter’s wind and unfeeling as stone.

“I suggest you listen very carefully to me right now. _Very_ carefully.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Part Two...


	10. The Broken Mask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: There is some description of domestic violence and abuse, very brief mention of underage sex (both parties age 17) and mention of teenagers being manipulated/neglected in this chapter.

**Last Night at Mos Eisley Tavern, Los Angeles…**

Kylo Ren was looking at a dead man. The dead man stared back at him with the cold, flat-eyed gaze of a shark.

Like a shark, the dead man seemed to prefer lurking in darkened corners, in this instance a seedy bar, sitting at a back table, alone and predatory, while the other clientele studiously avoided the man with apparent respect and no small amount of fear.

Kylo strolled up to the man at the table and casually seated himself without an invitation. The person sitting across from him obviously had no idea that a much bigger, much more dangerous predator had just entered his dominion…

Kylo would undoubtedly make the distinction crystal clear by the end of their conversation.

Before coming here, he’d sent Rey to his mother’s, hoping she would get some rest and sleep and _really_ hoping she would convince Luke to give her that memory back…

He’d seen Rey as a teenager, living on the streets, then the dirty group home where she’d met Finn. Where she’d miraculously gotten through public school and graduated on her eighteenth birthday.

Kylo had felt her sense of obligation to Finn, stemming from a desire to hold on to his friendship and not knowing how to be just friends, of her sleeping with him a few times, hoping it would keep him with her...she'd needed an ally...and then the resultant guilt she’d felt after each time they’d done it. Because she’d loved Finn as a friend, but she didn’t _love_ him with the desperate passion she’d read about in her books…

She’d felt she was using Finn… and her desperation to keep him close grew more pronounced as Plutt made it clear she would not be able to stay at the group home after the age of eighteen. Ironically, Finn had the same birthday as she did, so their problem was mutual.

Still, Finn watched out for her and kept her from being too lonely. He was kind and she genuinely liked him.

So when he’d joined the Army on the day they both turned eighteen, Rey had felt the deepest sense of betrayal…

As a high-school graduate with no real work experience and no friends and nowhere to live, she’d never felt so helpless. After Finn flew across the country for Basic Training, she’d never felt more abandoned.

And that was when she’d turned to DJ.

Kylo knew she’d been abandoned back in the _other_ realm… They’d discussed it many times.

But, that whole other existence had been so cleanly sliced away, as if it had never occurred. The absence of even a hint of it in her mind had bothered him deeply. He’d searched thoroughly, several times, and he couldn’t find even a remnant of it…

However, Kylo had not been able to bring himself to force her to get the memory using the Lamp.

He knew all too well the feeling of being pushed into doing something he'd never really wanted... Or even worse, the feeling of being a slave to another stronger, more powerful being...

But Kylo would have to think about that particular problem later.

He would address the problem sitting in front of him, first.  

Kylo surveyed Rey’s second shitty ex-boyfriend with a calculating gaze. DJ. Who appeared to be alive and well in this particular realm.

_Not for long._

He fully turned his attention to DJ and kept his disgust from showing only with effort. DJ, older than Rey by at least fifteen years, possibly closer to twenty, had deep grooves lining his face, evidence of a hard-lived life. His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back with an oily-looking pomade, and the man’s teeth were stained from tobacco and heavy drinking.

Like Kylo, the man wore a leather jacket and a _don’t-fuck-with-me_ expression that came from having a certain amount of power over others in the vicinity. Authority and power came differently to everyone, but it always carried a specific _something_ with it. A kind of carelessness and confidence Kylo recognized all too well. 

Revulsion crawled through Kylo knowing how Rey had survived under DJ’s obligation, then outright control, for as long as she had. She'd done what she'd needed to in order to survive, and Kylo could not fault her for it.

Kylo had not seen _everything_ of her life in L.A. – he’d obviously missed how skilled Rey had become with a pool cue, he thought wryly – but, the memories he _had_ seen were more than enough to condemn the dead man.

And Kylo was happy to take on the role of judge, jury, and executioner for this piece of human filth sitting before him.

Rey had referred to DJ a few times in some vague, unflattering terms in the Dark Side book club chat. But it was the things she _hadn’t_ referred to that made Kylo’s blood boil.

She’d left out far too much in the group chat, but she had not been able to shield him from seeing the full picture when he’d prowled through her memories last weekend…

He knew it all had been beyond his control, and yet Kylo felt guilty and somewhat responsible for not finding her sooner, for not getting her out of her nightmare existence and prevent her suffering.

But vengeance and reckoning were his, now, and he would not deny himself the satisfaction of fully destroying the piece of shit who had used her and hurt her…He would take everything - everything - from the dog who had once so brutally taken advantage of Rey.

 _You are a dead man,_ Kylo thought vengefully. _You have but minutes left of your pitiful existence._

Nevertheless, Kylo kept his intentions to himself, maintaining a casual demeanor as he leaned back in the wobbly chair and met DJ's gaze across the scarred, stained table.  _Let’s see if he even admits to knowing her, first._

“Tell me about the girl,” he stated, an oversimplification that would allow the dead man a chance to direct the conversation and build a false sense of security, so Kylo could destroy that, too, at the end.

The dead man returned Kylo’s stare for a moment before spreading his hands across the table and leaning forward. “She sent you, huh? Rey? That skinny fucking bitch?”

“You probably shouldn’t call my wife a bitch,” Kylo advised the dead man, soft menace creeping into his voice. His eyes flashed a warning, and the dead man sat back with a huff. Still, DJ was not nearly as intimidated as he should be.

DJ scratched under his nose and flashed Kylo a mocking smile. “Uhhh…Congratulations? That bitc- oh, _sorry_. That _slut_. Owes me twenty-eight thousand dollars,” DJ spat. “You here to pay up?”

“Oh, yes. I’m definitely here to settle accounts,” Kylo said silkily. When he made no further move to threaten or warn, DJ took it as a concession, Kylo could tell. _He thinks I’m backing down…_

A huge fucking mistake.

“You actually married that mouthy slut? She had a good ass, but damn could she get lippy…” DJ was obviously feeling very secure. Kylo let him keep talking.

“Showed up at my doorstep looking for work and protection when she was eighteen,” DJ continued. “I usually took in kids from Plutt’s group home when he booted them on their eighteenth birthday.”

DJ did not mention how Plutt used his teenage charges to transport stolen cars, bikes, and drugs for him. They had an arrangement, DJ and Plutt. They would get those kids so entrenched in the _business_ that by the time they were old enough or smart enough to report their activities to the police…

Well, those kids would have been so brainwashed not to trust the police by then, they really wouldn’t have anywhere else to go. Not that anyone ever wanted them or gave a shit.

DJ continued his explanation, after Kylo murmured an inviting, “Oh, really?”

“Oh, yes. She was a smart one, our Rey.” Kylo clenched a fist under the table at the words _our Rey_.

_She's mine._

“One of my best. Could jack a bike faster than anyone. Looked innocent enough to get past just about anyone with…her deliveries,” DJ raised an eyebrow at Kylo, making sure Kylo understood just what had been delivered.

As if being a drug lord was supposed to impress Kylo. He wanted to laugh out loud at the dead man’s misguided posturing.

_You have no idea who you’re talking to, mortal. But you will…_

“Turns out she was too smart for her own good. Enrolled herself in community college and managed to get transferred to some online school to get her teaching degree… I had no idea of course. Thought she was running the pool tables here at Mos Eisley the whole time.”

DJ lit up a cigarette, and Kylo wondered idly if the man had any idea it would be his very last one.

“By the time I found out, well, she was almost done with school… She’s sly, that one. Real good at giving you the innocent eyes while she does whatever the fuck she wants behind your back.” DJ took a long pull on his cigarette and belatedly asked Kylo if he wanted one.

Kylo snagged two from the pack, tucking one behind an ear, then muttered a  _thanks_ while leaning in while DJ held out a lighter for him. He inhaled deeply, a picture of calm. 

“How the hell did she get through college and keep it from you? That must have been…disappointing…” Kylo said through a cloud of smoke, leading the dead man to his deathbed confession with a sympathetic chuckle.

“Oh, she was still running the tables here. Had a deal with the bartender to use the computer part of the time, though. Then, when he got shot when a deal went bad, Rey tried to finish school at the public library. But I was onto her by then,” DJ bragged.

“Had to pretty much keep her under constant watch by then… I couldn’t ever let her get a real job, you know? Already had her pretty much dependent on me for _all_ her needs,” he went on and Kylo had to resist the painful urge to melt the man across from him into an unrecognizable, charred pile of flesh.

Kylo knew exactly what the dead man was referring to… He also knew Rey had less-than-flattering thoughts about the man’s prowess in the bedroom. It didn’t make him feel any better, knowing she’d just been putting up with this creature until she could break away from him…

DJ stubbed out his cigarette with a practiced hand. “I have so much dirt on that bitch. Enough to put her away for a very long time. But, even that wasn’t enough to keep her from threatening to leave after I found out about her going to school behind my back. So, I had to keep her on a very tight leash…” 

Kylo was well aware. This had been one of the memories he’d uncovered which had stood out with pristine, blade-sharp clarity.

DJ had locked her in a room for weeks on end, giving her the bare amount of food to survive. Until finally she’d broken down and promised to be good…

She’d missed registration for the next semester of school and had decided then and there to run while she could.

“And then I fell for those pretty eyes again. Let the deceitful bitch out of her cage. She broke a couple a my ribs with a pool stick when I tried to teach her lesson…” DJ whined as he unconsciously stroked a grubby hand over his ribcage. Kylo smiled.

“She is a fighter, isn’t she?” Kylo asked evenly. His gut churned with rage. He knew exactly why she’d had fight off this dog, this vermin. After he'd let her out of the locked room, DJ had slapped her, hard enough to knock the wind out of her, then tried to break her arm.

She’d grabbed the nearest weapon she could and laid him out flat.

“Oh, yeah. A real piece of work that bitc- sorry. _Slut_.”

Kylo’s nostrils flared and DJ mistook it as encouragement to continue.

“Then she took my money and ran. That’s her way. Always out for herself… You’d better watch yourself, man, she’ll do the same.”

DJ’s words struck an uneasy chord in Kylo’s chest… She’d done the same thing to him, hadn't she? Promised eternal faithfulness, then left just hours after doing so? Taking the Bride Gifts...ripping Kylo's own heart out in the process...

 _That’s her way._ Kylo pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

“Speaking of my money. I don’t take checks. Where’s my twenty-eight grand?” DJ’s eyes sparkled with victory. And greed. 

“Hmmm. It's really too bad you brought that up so soon…” Kylo remarked. “Those are the last words you will ever speak without feeling indescribable pain…”

The dead man’s eyes narrowed with alarm, but too late.

Kylo whipped his hand into the air, and the dead man across the table choked and gasped as he felt the excruciating pressure of his windpipe collapsing.

The dead man’s eyes bulged, and his face turned purple. Kylo stood grimly, still gripping the dead man’s throat with invisible magic…

Kylo finally allowed a flow of dark magic to haunt his eyes into black, hellish pools, all sign of his friendly, impassive mask long gone.

“Mine is the last face you’ll ever see…before I send you to your eternal destiny…” Kylo spoke with an ancient, cold-blooded fury tempered and forged through time itself.

The dead man clawed at his throat in full panic, tearing at the invisible, unrelenting compression around his throat.

“This next part…is going to hurt you so much more than it’s going to hurt me,” Kylo snarled.

And then he allowed himself the grim satisfaction of absorbing the man's dawning horror and full realization of doom that washed over the dead man’s face.

He speared a single thought into the man’s mind before he ruthlessly shredded it to pieces.

_I’m the Grim fucking Reaper, you piece of shit. Consider your account settled._

 

**Hamlin Elementary School…Before School Started**

Kylo did not allow his turbulent thoughts to appear on his face as he knocked politely on Amilyn Holdo’s office door promptly at seven a.m. the next day.

But, as much as he tried, he could not stop replaying the conversation he’d had with DJ.

Holdo greeted him with a harried smile and waved him in, inviting him with a gesture of her hands to sit in the somewhat worse-for-wear guest chair in front of her cluttered desk.

“You are Mr. Ren, I presume? Our sub for today?” Holdo asked distractedly as she pored over the papers on her desk behind half-moon reading glasses.

She had purple fucking hair. Kylo grinned, all charm.

“Yes, ma’am, just in from Chicago. Uh, I brought my resume with me, in case you needed…”

Kylo kept his expression calm as he silently sent a stream of magic into the woman across from him, filling her mind with the sure knowledge he was who he said he was.

“Oh, no, I called the school district and they gave me excellent references… Although, forgive me for saying so…are you sure you can handle a room full of first-graders?”

 _Huh_. She was a rare one to question his magic on the first attempt.

“Oh, yes,” he replied smoothly, sending another stream of reassurance into her. Her eyes glazed over and she didn't move a muscle as Kylo said, “As you might know, I’ve been teaching for a while, now. Kids like me.”

It was true, that last part, actually. Old people and children never batted an eye sideways at him. It was one of the reasons he’d chosen to come here to the school. Rey or Luke might have hidden an anchor here…and it had occurred to him, belatedly, that if Luke had access to Rey he would probably try to use her to kill him again…

_Fucking Luke._

Apparently, the only people who didn’t like Kylo were his loved ones or those who deserved a visit from him…

He flashed a charismatic grin at Holdo and she said cheerfully, “Well, then. Let me show you to your classroom for the day.”

Holdo stood and Kylo stood as well, politely holding her office door open for her so she could proceed through before him.

He could be a gentleman. If the occasion called for it.

 

**Death’s Lair…**

She was listening. Intently.

Something was different and dreadfully wrong. He was _livid_ and the force of it hit her in waves. She could not sense why; he’d blocked her completely from his mind.

“I’ve told you before, you don’t have to be afraid of me…” The words hit the side of her neck, tickling the fine hairs there.

Rey’s pulse, an erratic, panicked thumping under her ribs, slowed a bit. He’d told her that many times. She sighed, relieved... _Okay, then._

 _“I was wrong to tell you that,”_ he hissed spitefully, and now the words hit like steam, hot and burning, and she strained away from it, away from that terrible, scalding wrath.

She heard the metallic clink of the Zippo being flicked open, then an irritating _scrrritch_ , and the sound rasped against her nerves like steel wool on an exposed wound.

She did not fear the magic of the Lamp, as she knew he only could use it for three wishes. And he’d already done so, according to her frantic recollections…The first, outside of Maz’s bar when he’d ordered her to get food and rest and try to get her memory back, that counted as one. The second, in her classroom, when he’d told her to come to him…and the third, when he’d ordered her to come to him again. Here. In this dream.

“You’re out of wishes. Stop playing with the lighter to try to scare me,” she blustered.

“I’m _not_ out of wishes, _sweetheart_.”

 _clink-scrrritch_ …

That fucking lighter was going to drive her insane. She charged hotly, “Yes you _are_ out. You used that thing three times, already. You’re done…”

… _scrrritch_ …

_Stop it!_

… _scrrritch_ …

“You really should have taken me up on my offer to teach you when you had the chance… There’s… _so much_ you don’t know.”

 _clink-scrrritch_ …

“The magic of Lamp is so much more complex than mortal fairy tales would have you understand,” he explained, sounding patient and annoyed at the same time. “I can bind you to it, make you the … vessel for its magic. You would feel its pull, and the pull to me, as the Lamp’s Master… But, unless I explicitly make a wish…you will only ever feel a very strong pull. Wishes are funny things,” he mused. “And… I never said ‘I wish’ did I?”

… _scrrritch_ …

She swallowed the lump of fear threatening to choke her, as his explanation rang true. _Shit. Oh, no…_

 _clink-scrrritch_ …

“Since the moment I found you, I’ve been trying to fuck my way into your heart, get you to cooperate, to understand…convince you to help me, show some fucking _compassion_ … How unbelievably stupid was I? I can’t get to something that’s never existed… You don’t have a fucking heart…”

Something inside her shriveled, and she opened her mouth to argue, to defend herself, to stop his punishing torrent of words that bruised her and twisted her into knots…

But, his anger spilled forth like overflowing lava, unstoppable, now, as he went on.

“I guarantee whatever wretched _thing_ that pumps your blood through your veins, it isn’t a _heart_ …You don’t have one…nor a drop of mercy in your soul to spare for such as me…”

He wedged a thought into her mind, like an awl splitting through a stump, blunt and brutally clean.

_“…she took my money and ran. That’s her way. Always out for herself…”_

A whimper of panic escaped her lips, unbidden, and she couldn’t move. Her eyes strained to the side to see him…if she could just see him…

“…but, Ben – _Kylo!_ That was – I had to leave him, he was going to –”

Kylo went on, relentless and too caught up in his wrathful speech. “I finally figured out why that memory of yours was so cleanly sliced away, so coldly, _surgically_ purged…There’s only one way to erase something like that…”

 _clink-scrrritch_ …

“I should have seen it, I should have known…What a blind fool I’ve been,” he murmured into her hair, as if, in spite of his self-hatred, he could not pull himself away from her.

“What…what is it you think I’ve done?” she whispered, afraid to ask but more afraid not to.

“You would have had to _give_ it away, hand it over to a very skilled magician… _willingly and with total cooperation_ …”

 _clink-scrrritch_ …

“How traitorous of you, my pet, to be so callous…”

_I am not your pet…_

_clink-scrrritch_ …

“I tried to find it, and couldn’t believe…didn’t want to think you could do something so cold-blooded as carelessly give away everything that would have reminded you of me, of us, of the vows we made…of that night…and then take the proof of our marriage with you as well, to run and hide like a coward. With my own uncle…That’s a special kind of heartless, Rey…”

“But, I –”

“You’re nothing more than a traitor. To me, to everything I ever loved,” he pulled away and spoke as if to himself, now, “I fucking hate traitors…and yet I cannot bring myself to hate you…”

“What…are you going to do?” she whimpered.

He finally moved into her line of sight and her entire being sank into a pool of dread at the haunted, terrible emptiness in his eyes. He gently placed a hand over her heart, tapping his finger onto her skin. It burned, branding her with unbound accusation.

“Well. I already have a piece of your soul, disloyal, despicable thing though it may be…and I’ve already… _defiled_ you, haven’t I? So now? I am just going to have to _break_ you.”

 

He heard her thought, clear as a sunlit day. _No, no. This nightmare, it isn’t real, I can fight him, I have magic, still…_

“You cannot fight me, Rey. I am invincible in this place, especially now I have my whip. You really did fuck up royally by sending me here.”

When he'd fallen into the darkness of his nightmare, it had all hit him in a rush of understanding.

There was only one reason that memory of hers was so completely _gone_ …

_She’s sly, that one. Real good at giving you the innocent eyes while she does whatever the fuck she wants behind your back._

_…she took my money and ran. That’s her way. Always out for herself…_

Volcanic fury had erupted in his heart as he understood, finally, finally comprehended the scale of betrayal. Of what she had done.

Her eyes widened, and he watched the realization wash over her as she perceived his appearance; he was not a monster in this place.

He shook his head, almost remorseful, but keeping his expression inscrutible. “I am not the monster in this dream, sweetheart…”

He tapped a finger on her chest again, before sneering, “That would be _all_ you…I’ll give you an hour to contemplate your…fate.”

 


	11. Breaking Point

**Death’s Lair**

Kylo swept from the hut, leaving her behind before his fury overflowed and led him onto the path of committing… _irreversible_ damage.

In the entirety of his existence, he had never been so tempted. So seduced by the darkness residing within him. So drawn to accede to the lure of claiming absolute power.

He had the Lamp, he’d flicked it open and lit the flame… She’d been right fucking there…

All he’d needed to do was speak the words, words that had lain dormant at the bottom of his heart since the first time he’d seen her, like a grain of sand nestled in an oyster. A painful, tiny grain he’d tried to eliminate or ignore…but couldn’t ever quite obliterate.

So, he’d worried at it and poked and picked and eventually coated it over with layer upon layer of frustration and anger and lust and broken pride, until the tiny little thought had become a polished gem, nearly irresistible in its allure.

_Take her._

He could have done it so many times, even at the moment he’d found her bathing in the stream eternities ago…

He hated himself for it, but there it was, nonetheless.

He wanted her, and he could take her.

He had only to speak the words, but even more importantly, to really _mean_ it, deep down, at the base of his heart, at the root of his soul.

It tortured him, that tantalizing, seductive _knowing_ , always there.

But his lust for her to return his feelings was there, too, wedged into him, embedded so deep it would never leave. No matter what she did.

He wanted more than her body. He wanted her mind and her heart. All of it.

Mostly, he wanted her to love him as passionately and endlessly as he loved her.

Something about making a wish was so…personal…and making a wish on another person using the Lamp implied a kind of devastating intimacy. It would be a taking of power equivalent to forcing her...

To destroy her free will…a betrayal of such magnitude…

Kylo would not, _could_ not bring himself to do it.

Because, despite his unquenchable yearning for her to return his feelings, Kylo Ren knew any wish he made to compel her or enslave her would be a half-hearted effort, at best.

Even here, in his own nightmare, where he reigned supreme, and with her, traitorous little monster that she was, finally fully under his power…Even here, he could not bring himself to _really_ wish for _that_.

And yet, he had a colossal problem.

His rage, never far beneath the surface, simmered inside him with volcanic anticipation. He had two more anchors…the Lamp. And the Harp. She’d found it, which meant he could get to it, too.

Which meant their time in this realm was drawing to a close.

He knew he had to send them to his master and he knew he had to do it quickly. Snoke would have become increasingly impatient since Kylo had sent him the spindle and the cloak…

Once Snoke had those anchors, Kylo knew it would only be a matter of time before things would change forever.

Especially for Rey.

For the first time, perhaps ever, he felt deeply conflicted over his chosen course of action.

He snapped his whip into a fiery cross in the air, whirling it furiously into a figure eight, lashing out blindly at the dead trees, the barren landscape.

Violent, nightmarish shouts rent the air, shaking the ground and rattling through the skeletons of dead trees, tortuous and crushing and endless, vibrating into his skull until his head was full of the unstoppable clamor.

The screams continued, and the whip lashed and flung furious destruction upon everything in its wicked path, and it took him a minute to realize those tormented sounds belonged to him.

It was he who bellowed and howled with unrestrained fury, his cries echoing into the darkness, hammering thunder and ruin into the desolate emptiness all around.

Just him.

 

Rey remained on the cot in the hut, covered in a raggedy piece of fabric. It smelled like him.

She could move now, but she had nowhere to go and no idea how to leave. Tears streamed down her face at the words he’d left her with…

_I am not the monster in this dream…that would be all you…_

Even worse, he’d left her with his memories and the sure knowledge he’d been living a nightmare for so long, she could not comprehend the depth of his suffering. Not really.

Horrible, agonized cries suddenly shattered the air and she knew they were his. Her heart ached at the sound of such terminal misery.

_… whatever wretched thing that pumps your blood through your veins, it isn’t a heart…You don’t have one…nor a drop of mercy in your soul to spare for such as me…_

She knew. She _knew_ what he’d undertaken…for her. She’d seen it, guarded in the blackest, most shadowed den of his mind.

_I already have a piece of your soul, disloyal, despicable thing though it may be…_

He’d tried to keep it away from her. But she’d seen. And now she understood.

Not even the torture he’d endured at Snoke’s hands could compare to the pain of her…breaking him. Slowly. Mercilessly.

She’d known he spoke the truth when he told her that memory could only be gone because she’d given it away, freely.

_…and I’ve already…defiled you, haven’t I? So now? I am just going to have to break you._

That coldly delivered remark had shaken her to her core. She had glimpsed and had a vague understanding of what he’d been referring to when he’d said that.

She knew what the creature on the throne had done to him: He’d made Ben Solo into a monster.

The scariest, most fucked-up monster imaginable.

But he was more than a monster. And he was hurting, dreadfully. Because of her.

Rey took in a deep breath and sat up on the cot, wrapping the tattered cloth around her, her mind made up.

He might be a scary, fucked-up monster. But he was _her_ scary, fucked-up monster.

And she was his.

If ever she could think of a time when she would need to salvage a broken thing, it was as she spoke the words into the air on a whisper of hope and apology…

_Kylo Ren. Come to me._

Her words cut through the air like a blade, cold steel and unflinching command. And sorrow.

_Come to me. Please._

And just like that his rage burned itself out. She’d called to him.

She _wanted_ him.

Kylo stopped, spinning so quickly the sooty snow at his feet flew in puffs and whirls around him. He rushed back to the broken-down hut and slammed the door open so roughly it bounced against the wall with a loud crash.

She sat calmly, unperturbed. Waiting for him.

“That creature on the throne. You made a deal with him. For the Text. For your powers,” she said quietly.

He nodded, unsure what was happening.

She pushed a thought into his mind, and he allowed it, wincing. She reminded him of the way she’d scarred him, back in that other dream, struck with sadness it had been her to bring him such pain.

“Why would you let me do that to you?” she asked, finally.

“I’ve gone through worse. I thought it might be a fair exchange to find…you know…” He fumbled for an answer.

“And the other thing…” He knew she referred to the blood magic he’d used.

He was no stranger to guilt but somehow, he sensed guilt was not required. She was not upset about it. Not anymore.

“I thought if we shared each other like that…the dark magic might…bring it out. That memory,” he explained, stepping further into the room.

“I’m sorry. That I brought you to that…point…” she whispered solemnly.

 _I’m so, so, sorry._ Her thought pierced him, and he moved forward until she craned her neck up to keep their gazes locked.

Then, she lifted her arms and he dropped to his knees, and suddenly everything around him was so reminiscent of _that_ night, their secret wedding, the cozy little hut, her seated on the bed, him kneeling before her…

He choked back a sob as her hand stroked his hair even though he almost crumbled at the soft touch. The way she’d voluntarily… comforted him. It was going to tear him apart.

She lurched into his neck, and buried her face there, crying as if her heart was torn asunder.

“I want you to…To show me. Please,” she whispered, and her tears dampened his skin and he _wanted_ to so badly he quaked from it.

But, no. He shook his head. _Too much. It’s too much._

He tried to explain. “Sweetheart, if we bridge our minds again…especially here, in this place, I don’t know what will happen. You…last time…and if we destroy this place as we did your dream, and cannot return…And we cannot leave until you bring us back…And…I can’t hurt you. I _won’t._ ”

“I don’t care if it hurts me…breaks me, even. I want to know. I want to _know_ you.”

“Rey, I can’t do that. I vowed I would never hurt you. I can’t,” he gasped brokenly, as her hand brushed over his hair again. “My heart has been yours since forever. And my soul…well, that’s a complicated ownership. Snoke has a piece of it, and now so do you. But there are things…thoughts…I’m ashamed to show you.”

“I don’t care! You can make an exception, can’t you?”

“No…”

“Why not?” she pushed, but gently.

“Because. When I make a promise, I mean to keep it. My _word_ is the only thing I have that belongs to me and me alone.”

“That’s not true,” she whispered, eyes shining into his hollow, hungry expression. “You have me…”

Then she said, “And I have you.”

Ah, fuck. This was going to destroy them both.

“Show me…I really want to understand.”

“Are…you really sure?” he finally relented.

“Yes.”

He scooted her back on the bed, just a bit, crawling up next to her so they sat side by side, leaning against the rough planks of the wall. He tucked her under his arm.

“Okay. I’ll take you…dreamwalking,” he murmured softly into her hair, wrapping an arm around her, lifting her hand to his mouth, kissing it.

His hand groped over the tattered cowl covering her until it found the small, twisted pin he used to secure the hood in place.

Her eyes met his fearlessly as he held up the pin. She understood and took it, jabbing the sharp point into her finger.

Before he gave in to the distraction of the drops of red sliding down to pool in her upturned palm, he did the same, watching as her eyes lit with similar hunger.

Desire spilled into his gut like flowing lava as he clasped his hand to hers, smearing and mingling their blood in a clumsy mess, until he couldn’t resist anymore…and he licked it.

The heady combination of tasting the two of them, together, was enough to knock the air from his lungs.

As his tongue swiped over her palm, she cried out, visibly aroused.

_Let me in._

She let him in, without resistance, and it was so fucking good and right, like coming home at the end of a very, very long day…

He let her in, too and her presence was a balm, cool water on the lips of a parched man, a petal-soft tempest of everything he loved.

The cowl slid from her and he lifted her to him and she was fumbling with his clothes. He realized belatedly she’d never controlled a dream before, and he was going to have to let her…

He kissed her hungrily, and…let go.

The second he released control over to her, she drew a finger down his chest, dissolving his clothes with a touch and a devilish smile.

“You poor boy, trapped all alone here with a monster like me,” she purred into his neck and his heart thundered into his ribs at the sweetness of her teasing voice. “You must be fucking panicking right now…” She licked his pulse and pushed his shoulders back into the wall.

_OH, fuck, yes…_

This girl was a quick learner. He loved her so fucking much.

And she was suddenly everywhere, all at once, bouncing in his lap, kissing him, tasting them together on his tongue and writhing at how good and right it was, squirming over him and sucking on his neck and stroking her hands over him so enthusiastically he could only ramble, “Yes, yes...Like that, yes…oh, you’re so good, fuck!”

A strangled groan escaped him as she plunged her hands into his hair and kissed him with everything she had.

He knew it was everything she had. Because he was right there, right there in her head…

_I can feel your pulse going a mile a minute. Don’t be afraid, Ben._

 

He smelled like black licorice and faintly of diesel and his dark, masculine scent that reminded her of sweat and hot sex.

“I dreamed of this for so long…you have no idea how much,” he growled. But she did have an idea. She was in his mind, and she could see it all.

Intuitively, she pulled him into her, straddling him, grasping his much larger hands in hers. But he would let her because she would need to do this next part by herself.

She pinned his hands against the wall to either side of his head.

_Let me in. All the way._

And she stepped into his mind.

If she had to describe it, she would have said it most closely resembled an infinite hall of mirrors, each holding something. A memory.

She could wander as long as she liked, examining each image at will, as she chose. Time had no meaning here.

So she looked.

And she saw. Everything.

And beyond seeing. She understood. All of him.

Random flashes of images that were not her own, pressed into her mind like film on a reel, only instead of just visions or words, there were feelings, too…

_He’s crouched in the corner of her dream, knowing he looks terrifying and yet not wanting to frighten her._

_He sees her for the first time in forever, making that delivery. She’s wet from the rain and her makeup is smeared and she looks so forlorn, it’s all he can do not to take her into his arms immediately…so, being the devil he is, he nudges the swing just a bit so he can catch her…hold her…_

_He’d planned to learn where she lived and leave, but he misses her so sorely he can’t help himself from returning a few hours later on a desperate gambit…She lets him in, and…and feels like a god when she invites him in…he tries to play it cool, but he’s so tongue-tied he barely speaks._

_She’s fighting him, and he’s all false bravado as she burns and cuts him repeatedly. It hurts more when she rejects his offer to teach her._

_She slices his face open and he almost leaves, but he never considers lashing out._

_She calls him names, she’s so angry with him for not calling her back after five days…but he’d been searching for his whip and lost track of mortal time…_

_His words are the only things that belong to him and him alone. As a Skywalker, a storywriter, words are prized beyond rubies. It’s why he doesn’t like it when she speaks so cruelly to him. He mentions it to her. Several times._

_He’s begging her to help him, he wants to be free of this pain, but she’s looking at him in horror…_

_His Knight shoves her down, shoves her to the ground, and he wants to destroy the creature, wipe it into a smear of filth across the side of the bar. She’s his._

_He is in a realm unfamiliar to Rey, and his mother tricks him and gets her hands on his whip…He is devastated by betrayal._

_His uncle hides Rey from him, and the anchors, and they are supposed to be a fucking family, but it’s all so fucked up, it will never, ever be okay._

_He kills his father. Many times. His father forgives him. Every time. It splits his soul down to the marrow of him._

_Everyone thinks he’s crazy, what he’s trying to do, but they never stop to consider they might just be a little crazy, too, and he’s been living as the monster for so long, and what if he wins? What happens after he’s achieved his goal and she’s stuck with him for eternity…and…_

_She tries to kill him at his mother’s house and he changes her mind, but only just._

_He needs his whip to send the anchors back to Snoke, and then at least he’ll be free of one hell._

_Snoke mocks him and tells him he is weak and foolish for falling in love with a worthless peasant. Snoke, always Snoke’s words there at the back of his mind, reminding him of the vow he’d made to bring the anchors._

_He is a slave to his promise and his heart._

_He enters so many dreams and realms it becomes a blur of pain. Desperation. Failure._

_He has a single hope, and it cannot be killed._

_He wants her, all the fucking time._

_He pours his heart into writing the Dark Side series, hoping it will lure her to him._

_He sees his uncle outside Maz’s bar and he is afraid…The Sandman is a powerful sorcerer…possibly strong enough to kill him and take Rey again…He becomes a dragon._

_He finally gets his whip and the exultant glory of it temporarily obscures all but Her, always Her._

_He misses her and the hole in his heart will never be filled until he sees her again, until he knows she is all right._

_He destroys DJ so brutally the body is almost unrecognizable by the time he is done. He cannot find any pity or remorse in his heart for that act, terrible though he knows it is._

_He’s heartbroken and more aware of his failures than she ever will be when he binds her to the magic of the Lamp…he cannot help himself from wanting to keep her connected to him…_

_He bonds them with blood magic, so desperate not to hurt her because he knows he’s a monster, a beast, but he can’t help wanting a piece of her with him forever…_

_She puts him to sleep at the school and he can find no pity in her, no mercy…and it’s so hopeless and he will never get over it, the way he keeps throwing himself at her, every way he can, and she’s slowly fucking killing him, eroding his will, murdering his hope, that tiny little nugget he’d kept safe this whole time..._

_He falls into this nightmare and tries to recreate the place where they made love for the first time, a last attempt to console himself…but he’s so fucking broken and damaged and evil and bad, he can only manage a pathetic, destroyed facsimile of it._

_He wonders if he will be forced to spend his eternity here, if she doesn’t come for him. Here in this tragic mockery of a place he once loved more than anywhere…a place where his thoughts had lingered so often he couldn’t count the number of eons his mind had dwelled there._

_And he hates himself, LOATHES himself for the single, evil vision crosses his mind a handful of times, in his darkest hours, his lowest, weakest moments…He imagines a dungeon, a cold and airless room. She is shackled there, a slave. His slave. His property to be used at will, as he deems fit. He makes her do unspeakable things, but she cannot protest and she cannot leave._ _He will never free her. Because as long as she is there…then she can never leave him._

At this last mirror, Rey paused. It was not a memory. Yet it was there, dark and buried. He allowed her to see it, as he promised he would. It did not frighten her.

She understood.

She really, really did.

 

She stepped back from his mind, still linked, but no longer… _dreamwalking_ , he’d called it.

She pulled away with a stuttering gasp and looked at him. He tried to turn his head, knowing what she’d seen, unable to look her in the eye.

“Ben.”

“I can’t…there is no excuse,” he muttered weakly. “I’m sorry.”

She released his hands and cradled his face in her palms.

“It’s okay. I understand, Ben. It’s okay,” she soothed.

“I really am a monster, sweetheart,” he mourned as she kissed his face. His arms remained still, limp at his sides.

“You’re mine,” she hissed at him. He blinked at her.

_What did you say?_

_You. Are. Mine._

She put her mouth over his, and her eyes fluttered closed as an electric current jolted into her at the touch.

He tentatively flicked his tongue over hers, a question…

_Yes._

_I just can’t live without you. I just can’t anymore, Rey..._

_Show me_.

Eyes aflame, glowing, red-hot brands, he carefully set his hands to her waist, and she knew she would never forget this moment for the rest of her life.

And she did not need a memory to know she loved him with all her heart.

Snuffling, he sank his teeth into the side of her neck, grazing over her pulse as he drew his fingernails along her back and sides.

She braced her hands over his chest and kissed him, sinking into him even as he pulled her greedily against the hardness of him.

He sat up, bending her over backwards so his mouth could freely roam over her chest, pulling softly at the tender peaks of her breasts with such exquisitely soft sucks she was going to die from it.

His tongue flicked over her ribs, teeth scraping along and all she could do was hold on.

She was lost, on fire, burning up…and she wanted more.

But he knew it, and he was already shifting her, flipping her to lie on her back so he could hover over her, crush her just a little. Overwhelm her a bit. With him.

It really was rapturous.

His fingers dug into the flesh at her hips and he kissed her, less tenderly now, more demanding, greedily swallowing her moans as if he were dying for more.

She lifted her legs around him and begged with her eyes for him to take her.

He complied with a hot gasp against her mouth and a slow thrust that destroyed her.

He pulled away, locking his arm into place next to her head and slid into her again. Deeper. Harder.

It fucking shattered her.

He pushed her knee up with his free hand, stroking her leg with such certain ownership, she choked and cried out, “Yes!”

And then he made love to her until her breath burned in her lungs and tears streamed down her face as his eyes seared into hers.

His sweat fell like hot rain on her skin, tickling and trailing like a lover’s caress over her breasts and belly, and his mouth met hers, a constant reminder of his taste, as he deliberately, devastatingly pushed into her with endless, sinuous-slow rolls of his hips.

At the end, when pleasure and ecstasy twisted through her on a whip of fire and bliss…she knew he was right there with her. And they did not need words, because they were already there, inside each other’s minds.

And they had all the time in the world, now.

 

“Am I really a monster?” she asked when she could breathe again.

It finally occurred to her that she might appear as a monster to him… She wasn’t totally sure how all of this worked, after all.

His chest rose and fell, and he laughed ruefully, pulling her close before whispering, “That was more of a metaphor, sweetheart. But, no. You’re not a monster. Not to me.”

He pulled the Zippo from the air with a sheepish smile. “Now. How would you like to get us out of this nightmare?”

But she didn’t even need to use it. She grinned at him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him tight, pulling in the magic she needed to take them back as if she’d been doing it all her life.

 

**Hamlin Elementary School…**

They returned in a whirl of smoke and Rey once again found herself on the floor. Ben’s head rested in her lap, and she knew he would need a minute to recover from the magic she’d used to bring them back.

Footsteps echoed outside, and the door of her classroom swung open to admit a consternated-looking Luke and a grim Leia.

“Rey, you have minutes to get out of here before his…creatures come looking for him,” Leia snapped, eyeing the holes in the room and general chaos of debris. “Let’s go.”

“I’m not leaving him alone! You’ll kill him!” Rey spat with such venom Leia flinched.

Luke lifted a hand and Rey took it as the threat it was, filling herself with power.

“Rey. _Don’t._ I’ve seen what he plans to do…and I _will_ stop it.” Luke’s voice threatened, even in its softly spoken undertones.

“Give. Me. My. Memory.” Rey demanded, carefully lowering Ben to the floor as she stood to face down the Sandman. “I don’t fucking care anymore.”

“I can’t do that, Rey… He can’t know. He’s too far gone, and he’ll not stop…” Luke cajoled, and his soothing tone raked down Rey’s nerves like sandpaper.

“There’s still good in him!” Rey shouted, snatching the Lamp from the air.

Luke and Leia’s eyes flared with alarm as – it was almost slow-motion – Rey flicked open the Zippo and lit the flame. Golden threads of magic poured into her, and this was not the same magic as Ben’s or hers…it was something ancient and … different.

“Heed me, _Servant_.” She spoke through gritted teeth. Luke’s eyes bulged and his whole body trembled as Leia stood by, watching the proceedings almost…dispassionately.

“Rey!” Luke gasped. And then, in outraged reprimand, “That was a cheap move…”

“I _wish_ I had my memory. Give it to me _now_. _All of it,_ ” Rey commanded relentlessly in a voice not her own.

This voice surely belonged to an ancient being, resonant with total power, authority dripping from it with whole and utter resolve.

Luke was fighting it with all his will, and damn, he was so powerful. She could see why Ben would be afraid of him.

“ _This is not going to go the way you think.”_ Luke’s determined snarl only made her fight harder.

The power of the magic she was using was swamping her, overwhelming her, drowning her.

She would need to hurry, she realized. Hurry fast.

She bore down with all her might and Luke fell back.

She did it again, and he stopped, hauling in shaking breaths while glaring at her.

“Well?” she shouted, impatiently stomping her foot like one of the first-graders. But she didn’t care anymore.

“As you wish, _Master_ ,” Luke ground out, and this time when he lifted his hand there was no threat.

A spike of white light flew from his outstretched palm, spearing into her with the concussive energy of a small explosion.

Rey trembled violently at the force of it, almost passing out from the destructive power pouring into her. Like trying to drink from a waterfall, she absorbed bits and pieces of a past life she had not ever remembered, and then not just one, but thousands upon thousands of times, running, hiding.

Hunted. Alone. Abandoned. Surviving.

It happened in a flash of a moment, but time could have stood still for eons.

And then…suddenly, it was all there.

It was all there.

And she knew Luke had been right.

He had been right.

A tear flowed down Luke’s cheek as Rey hissed at him to leave.

Gasping and shuddering, she turned her formidable glare to Leia, looking for resistance, but Leia merely stared back at her and said quietly, “Now you know why he can’t have that memory, Rey. The fate of this world and so many others…they lie in your hands, now…”

Leia swept from the room behind her brother, and Rey glanced down at Ben, lying on the floor at her feet. She finally had her memory back.

She wanted to die for what she’d done to him.

And for what she knew she had to do, now _._

He woke abruptly and rolled into a crouch, and Rey was startlingly unprepared for it.

_Shit. He cannot know I have that memory back. Luke was right. Dammit._

Ben would figure it out. He would try to take it from her mind.

He couldn’t, she couldn’t let him, how could she have been so stupid?

He stood, gasping a little, and then he was smiling at her, reaching for her with the softest expression she’d ever seen.

“Hey, sweetheart. We’re back.”

“Ben…” she whispered into the solid warmth of his chest as he pulled her into his arms.

“Something’s different…” he mused, tilting her chin to meet her gaze, searching her eyes with a touch of fear clouding his.

“The old man gave it to you. The memory…” he whispered, awe trembling on his lips.

Shit. He figured it out so fast, she didn’t know what to do. How to explain...

But his lips were falling onto hers, clinging so joyfully, tongue sweeping into her mouth because now she knew, she knew without a doubt they were sworn to each other…and she _loved_ him…and he knew it.

She would love him through the end of time. Even if he pulled down the foundations of the universe to be with her.

“How did you get it? How did you get it from Luke?” His voice cracked, hoarse with relief, with _knowing_.

But Luke was right. This was not going to go the way she thought…

“Um. I used the Lamp on him…” She faltered.

He chuckled. It was not a happy sound.

“There’s not a chance in hell Luke would have given you that memory, not even if compelled by the Lamp…not unless you wished for it. Did you, sweetheart? _Wish_ for it?” He licked his lips, eager.

She nodded.

His eyes flickered with such lust, such naked _want_ , her mouth went dry.

It was tearing her apart.

She knew the instant he could see it on her face and oh, it was the _worst_ thing…his unshed tears of hope, of vindication, shining in his eyes, the expectation that she would absolve him, share it with him…

“I know everything I need to know, Ben,” Rey said firmly, but how could she sound so calm and collected when her heart was ripping itself to pieces inside her chest?

“You do?” He stepped forward, searching into her eyes with such desperate longing it was all Rey could do to keep her face still and her mind walled off, an impenetrable fortress, diamond-hard and glacier-cold.

Slow realization crept over his features, awareness traversing with painful finality as he sought to confirm her exultation matched his and found instead…barren nothingness.

Her mind was a wall of diamonds. _Adamantine._

His eyes, shocked and scorching with sudden unbearable betrayal, flew to hers, searching. Confirming.

She felt his mind reach for hers and watched wretchedly as understanding dawned on his face and he shook his head as if to clear it.

“Ah. You do…” he murmured, hurt and treachery falling over him like a curtain.

“I do,” she repeated after him.

She would not give him what he sought. For that would be the cruelest blow.

He flinched, then pursed his lips in determination, his eyes fathomless pits of despair.

“I’m done playing cat and mouse with you, Rey. I want that memory,” he stated passionately, lifting his hand to her face. “And now you’re going to give it to me.”

She pushed away from him, tears of her own shining in her eyes.

Suddenly, he snapped his whip into the air, eyes boring into hers like twin lasers, glowing with such pain and confusion and raw hurt…after everything…he would _never_ understand.

He would never, ever forgive her for what she knew she had to do.

“I’m not giving you anything,” she countered reflexively, opening the lighter in her hand, even as she choked down a sob.  

He could only stare at her with all the accusation in the world, his soft full lips moving into a silent _Why?_ and that unspoken question hit her harder than if he’d struck her outright.

He looked at her as if he couldn’t believe it and at the same time as if…as if he _deserved_ it, as if he’d expected it all along, to be condemned…

She shook her head and pointed to the door, tears in her eyes, but they could have been tears of resolve or exhaustion for all he knew.

She drew in a shuddering breath and kept her arm outstretched, a mimicry of supplication, a beckoning, but in reverse…

She choked out the words, as vile and bleak as a windswept desert. “I wish you would leave me. And never come back for me. _Ever._ ”

His heart was breaking in front of her eyes and she couldn’t look at it anymore…couldn’t acknowledge the agony as he whispered, “Yes, _Master_ …”

He snarled at her, and on a raw puff of breath, as if in slow motion, the whip flared between them, a last connection…

He whipped the lighter from her hand so quickly she cringed.

His eyes narrowed imperceptibly at the sound of thunder, only darker, as the anchor was sent to his master…

Then, before she could move, he snatched the Harp from that _place_ where she’d left it…

“We’re not done yet,” he promised raggedly, black fire in his eyes, even as – forced by the absolute surety of her wish’s magic – he disappeared in a cloud of smoke and red sparks, only a faint whiff of diesel and the barest taste of black licorice on her tongue to remind her of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me. I bawled my way through writing this whole chapter.


	12. Firewall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are descriptions of violence/domestic violence in this chapter as we revisit Rey's past. I have segmented that part of the chapter with lines, so if you need to skip over it, please do.

**Hell**

It was, very possibly, the worst night of his entire life.

Worse than the first time she’d left him, by far. Because now he _knew_.

She’d wished it. She’d fucking wished him gone.

Wishes were funny things. She would have had to have meant it from the bottom of her heart. From the deepest well of her soul.

She did not want him to come for her, and it was torture beyond anything Snoke could ever have done to him.

So, he went to Hell, where the alcohol burned streams of fire down his throat and the music was too loud, too grating, until all the voices were drowned out except for one.

_“I wish you would leave me. And never come back for me. Ever.”_

He sulked and drank and sulked some more and drank such quantities of alcohol his mortal liver surely would give out soon…

He didn’t care.

Hux, or Cerberus, the Rabid Cur, as Snoke liked to call him, hovered constantly.

Naturally Hux would worry over their Chief Hellion showing signs of despondency…The time for Glory was upon them, in Hux’s mind.

Soon, just as soon as the final anchors were delivered, then so would they all be…

The final anchors. _Or anchor._

Kylo had a strong feeling there was only one left. And it would be near _her_ , near enough it would be impossible for him to find it.

After three drinks, though, he realized he couldn’t continue this way.

After six, he realized he’d left himself a last thread…a bit of a connection still there. To her.

He could do nothing more than drink and sulk and try not to obsess over her, but it was impossible.

Then he heard his mother’s voice. _Royalty doesn’t sulk._

He was descended from a royal line of Skywalkers who had always taken the worlds they occupied and rearranged the stories to suit their whims.

He could still do it. _Skywalking_ …

He was a man of action, and he had avenues unexplored.

He needed to find a loophole…some kind of technicality that might…tempt her to come to _him_.

He was the fucking Devil.

The Prince of Darkness.

The art of temptation should be _somewhere_ in his wheelhouse, right?

He just had to figure out how to do it. He needed some help. Someone good at figuring out how to worm his way out of impossible situations…someone like…aw, hell.

He would have to swallow his pride big-time on this one.

 

* * *

 

Rey lived alone. And she liked it that way, in general. Nobody to tell her what to do, when or what to eat, what to read, or when to go to bed. She liked being…independent.

After everything she’d gone through in L.A., with Plutt, then DJ, she reveled in the independence, even if it was lonely.

The time she’d spent in the group home had taught her how to survive, how to be patient, and how to take care of herself.

She’d spent endless hours at the pool tables in Mos Eisley and bringing stolen bikes and cars to Plutt and making “deliveries” – drug runs – for Plutt and his despicable friends.

On her eighteenth birthday, the day she technically graduated from high school and also the day Finn Storm broke her heart and left her alone in L.A., she’d had nothing but a plastic grocery bag full of dirty rags for clothes and a ringing in her ears from the heavy-handed smack Plutt had given her on her way out the door.

She’d threatened him, and he’d responded in kind, slapping her hard enough to rattle her teeth and leave her crouched and huddled on the front porch of the group home while he spat the vicious words, “You can call the police, if you want, little girl. They won’t do a damn thing to help a gutter rat like you. Sure, I’ll go to jail, _maybe_ …but you? I’ll fucking kill you or have you killed. One way or another, you’ll just end up as a bloody smear on some back-alley wall…now get the fuck out of here.”

Finn was gone, and she had nothing, no way to even escape the dirty city. The plastic flip-flops she wore cut bloody grooves into her feet as she walked for miles, trying to figure out what to do.

She walked past a homeless shelter and instantly rejected the idea. She’d heard too many stories of pretty young girls disappearing into places like that and never coming back…

She needed a job. She needed somewhere to stay. She needed protection.

The plastic handle of the grocery bag holding her pitiful worldly possessions had just broken, and she was drawing attention, unwanted attention, as she limped through a neighborhood where she’d made many deliveries before.

That bag suddenly became symbolic of her whole life. Useless. Worthless. Finished.

_“One way or another, you’ll just end up a bloody smear on some back-alley wall.”_

Nobody was coming for her. Ever.

Nobody would help her. She’d learned that lesson the hard way, had it pounded into her all her life.

She had nothing, literally nothing except for the ragged clothes on her back and her wits and her skills…and her body.

So, she would have to get herself out of this using the only currency she had.

She would go to the biggest, baddest shark in town and maybe he would give her work. At least if she worked for DJ, she would have protection from the other small-time predators who always circled the weak in this concrete jungle.

She hardened her heart and marched to her destination.

Hooking up with DJ had been a desperate move, but as his “woman” nobody bothered her. Ever. DJ was a piece of shit, but he was a possessive piece of shit. He never cheated on her, and he insisted she get an IUD, which was just fine with her. The thought of bringing a child into the world with him …that was enough to turn her blood cold. But DJ was only interested in one thing: Money, and how much she could make for him…

Rey found it worth her time to spend as much energy as she could focusing on getting herself truly out of the life she was in.

But it would take patience. And cash.

She’d stolen cars and motorcycles for him, and when he’d discovered she was a decent pool player, he put her in charge of running the tables at Mos Eisley, a nice side-job that became more full-time as it grew into a lucrative sideline as one of the main distribution points to filter drugs and cash through DJ’s dirty little corner of the criminal underworld.

But DJ would never, ever let her go. He had so much on her already, it was frightening.

He called her his little “golden goose” every once in a while. It raked on her nerves like nothing else.

She needed a real chance. So, she would go to college…maybe be a teacher, help kids.

The first time she walked onto a college campus, she had been terrified. She was sure someone would recognize her as an imposter, as someone who did not belong there.

Nevertheless, she braved the lines of other students and enrolled in online classes, paying her tuition with the cash she’d siphoned from DJ’s sideline.

He watched his money like a hawk, and she’d had to take it slowly, over time, so he wouldn’t notice twenty or fifty bucks missing here and there.

She’d also needed money to bribe the bartender at Mos Eisley to let her use his computer in the back office, stealing an hour or two each day to take classes online. She liked the anonymity of it all, too, of knowing that the people in her classes had no idea who she was or what she did to survive to the next day.

She came across a book series she liked, and devoured it, escaping into fiction as the weary days of school, crime, shitty boyfriend, and growing independence wore on.

DJ did not like her reading anything he didn’t approve of and preferred her to veer away from anything remotely close to the romance genre. She kept those books stashed behind the bar at Mos Eisley, fully aware that the bartender there was sneaking a peek at them when she wasn’t around.

She was good at college, surprising herself, and she got decent grades.

The next semester, she’d signed up for even more classes, knowing she would have to hurry through college while she still had the chance.

DJ was not easy to live with, but he was more interested in keeping her around to work for him than he usually was in sex or talking or having any kind of normal relationship. Which was fine with Rey, as she began to expand her mind with higher education and fully begin to understand just how fucked-up her situation was.

On the surface, she kept everything running smoothly, taking over more responsibility from DJ in managing the cash flows of laundered money from his other operations. Handling the money was much easier on her conscience, even though she knew exactly where it came from.

By the time she’d earned her transfer degree a whole semester early, she’d applied to State University, so she could pursue her bachelor’s degree…

Still. She would have to stay with DJ until school was done… She was so entrenched, she knew she could never leave it unless she made a completely clean break.

And it would have to be a clean, permanent break. DJ would track her down and have her executed if she ever left him.

So, she talked to an advisor at the University about finishing her bachelor’s degree on an expedited track, as well. If she could shave off half a year, take summer classes…she’d be that much closer to getting out…to being free.

The only thing holding her back was her lack of job experience, which would be tricky, because to become certified as a teacher, she would need to do an internship somewhere. In a real classroom. With kids and everything.

After she was almost done with her degree, Rey began to get nervous. The idea of leaving was terribly permanent. If she left L.A., anyone who had ever known her would never be able to find her again…not her parents, or Finn, or anyone…

As she got closer to reaching her goals, she vacillated between desperation to get out, and an ever-increasing desire to stay put, where she was relatively safe with DJ.

_Better the devil you know…_

And that was when the bartender at Mos Eisley had gone and gotten himself shot, and all hell had broken loose in Rey’s life…

When DJ finally found out she was almost finished with a degree, he completely lost his mind.

He’d locked her in a basement room of Mos Eisley of all places, with no way out and nothing to occupy her. It had been three weeks of tortuous solitary confinement…

Being left alone like that was the worst possible fate imaginable.

So, she finally begged and promised she’d be good…and DJ let her out and dragged her upstairs, so she could apologize in public.

He’d seated himself at the back table of the pool hall, holding her story book – literally the only thing she had from her past. They’d found it with her when she’d been left at a hospital as a child.

DJ knew the book was significant to her, and he had a look on his face…

He was going to do something to it, to punish her. She yelled at him, losing her temper and calling him every foul name she could think of.

Rey had never been more afraid for her life as she had been that night, the night he’d tried to teach her a lesson…

He’d never been too handsy. A few shoves. A few times he’d backed her into a corner and screamed at her, hot spittle hitting the side of her face while she flinched away.

Once he grabbed her arm and twisted it. But, he’d never struck her before.

So, when he slapped her and then tried to break her arm, she knew. He would end up killing her if she stayed with him.

She laid him out flat with a pool stick, grabbed his backpack as she ran out the door, knowing it would be full of cash from his deliveries.

She stole a bike and sped away, heading far out of the city for the first time in her life.

DJ would kill her if she stayed. But he’d also kill her if she ever went back.

So, she was never going back.

She dug out a wad of cash to pay for a cheap motel room after ditching the bike.

There, in the ratty, dirty room with stained carpet and broken-down furniture from at least four decades ago, Rey emptied the contents of the backpack onto the motheaten comforter of the bed.

Twenty-eight thousand dollars.

Holy fucking shit.

That was … so much money.

It was enough for her to buy an inconspicuous car and stay at the motel, paying by the month because she had no rental references or ID…

She had to transfer to another school, knowing DJ might try to track her down through the University.

She’d had to pay for a full semester of tuition and it had taken such a chunk of money that suddenly twenty-eight thousand seemed like not nearly enough…

But she figured it out. She got an ID from the manager at the motel, who seemed to have a knack for those sorts of things.

She bought herself a laptop and some clothes and cleaned herself up, looking, for the first time in her life like…a normal person. Not a gutter rat, or a thief, or a money launderer or a pool shark. Not the girlfriend of a drug lord.

She realized when she was at the café just off the interstate – they had good pancakes and steady wi-fi – that she fit in with everyone else there. Just normal people, doing their thing…

She lived close to the bone, and she liked her independence, and she found a new book series even better than anything she’d ever read before… And best of all, she’d found an internship and discovered she really did love working with kids.

And then she finished school…

She applied for a job in a small midwestern town and Skyped her job interview and they’d seemed thrilled to have her join them.

She’d packed her things, a small collection, really. It all fit neatly into a couple of boxes in her car.

And she’d driven away without looking back.

When she’d arrived in town, the first thing she’d done was put a deposit down on a lovely little craftsman-style house.

It was so charming, and she felt so pulled to it – it just felt like home. When Mr. Skywalker, the next-door neighbor had shown it to her, he’d pointed out the red raincoat left behind by the last tenants and joked how it looked to be about her size and how it had been meant to be, her moving there.

She’d moved in that day and had enough money left to buy some furniture and some clothes and a bit of food and a coffee-maker.

Now, if she could use if she could just figure out Skywalker’s wi-fi password…

And that first night in her new house, with her new life and L.A. and DJ far, far away…had been the best night of her whole life.

* * *

 

She left the school in chaos and couldn’t bring herself to care.

He was gone. Because of her.

It had to be done, she knew. But it had cut her heart out to do it.

So, she rode the bike for miles and miles and thought about Ben and her memory and how badly she’d fucked everything up.

Even Ben couldn’t forgive her for this.

How could he ever understand?

It was getting late, when she stopped riding and turned around.

She realized she was starving, so she returned to the place where normalcy might reign just a bit, taking the Ducati, because again, she didn’t fucking care.

She could return the bike to Leia’s later.

Right now, she just wanted to go home.

She pulled up to her house and immediately noticed a large, shiny-black SUV parked where her car usually was.

 _I left my car at Leia’s,_ she thought, her heartbeat skipping into a rapid thump. _Why is Ben’s car here?_

Eagerly, hoping he’d gone and at the same time hoping he was waiting for her, she fumbled her way into her house.

It held nothing but the expectant silence of an unoccupied space.

But, no, there _was_ something…

A giant bouquet of blood-red roses in a cut crystal vase on the coffee table.

Next to it, the keys to the SUV parked outside.

And a note. In beautiful cursive Rey recognized immediately.

_Sweetheart. You forgot to stock the fridge, so I took care of it for you. Also, your car is a piece of crap, so I traded it with mine. Love, Ren_

She couldn’t tell by his signature if he’d signed it Ben or Ren. He probably had done it that way on purpose.

She ran into the kitchen, then she did a double-take. There was food in her kitchen. As in it was fully stocked…

She opened the fridge.

It was crammed full of food. Like, grown-up, real-people food. Like the kind the wealthy couples on TV ate when they didn’t have to pinch pennies and they could afford the organic shit that Rey had always scoffed at…

She ran into her bedroom. On her bed, which had been made for the first time since she’d bought it, rested a small square package.

Wrapped in a bright red bow.

Slowly she pulled the ribbon. She’d never in her life gotten a wrapped present before.

And she knew what was in that box.

_Oh. Shit._

It was too much. She couldn’t look at it.

Her phone pinged an alert, a text from _“Hubby”_ … _What the hell?_

She looked at it curiously. _Who’s Hubby?_ Nobody had her number. Except for Holdo and…

_OH. Right._

**Hubby:** _U home yet?_

 **Hubby:** _I left some stuff at your house._

How the hell had he gotten that into her phone? She tried to reply, but only received an error message.

Then she realized how stupid she was being and tried to delete him from her contacts.

Only to find it couldn’t be edited. Or deleted.

 

**Hell**

“So, explain to me how stealing her car and breaking into her house is going to make her love you again?” Han Solo asked his son with a grimace.

Han was not going to go easy on him, but he _had_ come to Kylo when he’d asked him to and he’d sat quietly through most of Kylo’s entire explanation of…just about everything. Everything from the Realm Beyond until Present Day…

It had taken a while, even after Kylo left out the good parts.

“I left her _my_ car in exchange, which is much nicer than hers, by the way, and some other stuff…” Kylo retorted defensively.

The first thing Kylo had done after she’d banished him was to turn around and see how close he could get. He couldn’t get within miles of her.

So, he’d done the only thing he could think of and gone to his mother’s to steal her car.

Then he had the brilliant idea to go to her house and leave a few gentle reminders they were fucking married and she would eventually have to come to terms with the idea.

He _had_ left his car there, too, though. As a reminder.

He’d also prowled through her room until he’d found the one thing he knew would piss her off if it went missing again…

 _If I can’t get any satisfaction, then neither can you, baby,_ he thought, stuffing her purple vibrator into his back pocket.

And then he’d conjured a platinum wedding band and a cute little box to put it in and left it on her pillow…

“Okay, so like I said, you stole her car, leaving yours in its place – to remind her how much nicer it is, I presume?” Han interrupted his thoughts.

“Well it _is_ nicer! It’s a hundred-thousand-dollar Silencer!”

“It didn’t occur to you maybe she _liked_ her old car that she bought and paid for herself and might have been a personal symbol of her independence…?” Han asked, incredulous. “This is the same woman who refused to take money or help from you the first time around, or are we talking about a different one?”

Hmmm. Maybe his dad had a point.

“It didn’t also occur to you that invading her privacy might leave her just a little bit upset? Considering all the other shit you _literally_ just put her through?”

Fair enough.

Kylo was glad he hadn’t mentioned hacking into her phone. He would have hacked her computer, too, but Luke had changed the wi-fi password and updated his firewall.

Fucking Luke.

Han took a sip of his cocktail and leaned back in the bench seat across from his son. They both stared at each other for a minute.

“Well, what should I do?” Kylo finally relented. “She hates me.”

“Nah. She doesn’t hate you. If she hated you, she’d have done you a lot worse than telling you to go away…Reminds me of your mother, actually…”

“Ugh. Please no more stories about you and Mom.”

“All right, well, I dunno about all that magical mumbo jumbo, but I know one thing. If she loves ya, she ain’t gonna send you away without a damn good reason.”

Han was right. Holy shit.

She’d literally told him she loved him, right before they’d come back to her classroom. After seeing … everything, even the worst parts of him. And she’d brought him back...and only _after_ she’d gotten her memory did she wish him gone.

He’d been right, after all... Something had happened that had made her run the first time, and it was something making her keep them separated again this time.

_It must be pretty bad…_

Kylo stared glumly at his father.

“So what do I do?”

“You, my boy, are going to have to do something I’ve been doing since the beginning of time.” Han leaned forward and cocked a brow. “You are going to have to woo your wife.”

Kylo gulped. He was so much better at destroying shit and wreaking havoc, though.

“Will you help me?”

 

It was both infuriating and amazing how she lived to hear that quiet little _ding_ , knowing he would be randomly thinking of her and would never leave her alone.

The next few weeks were both the loneliest and most exciting days she’d ever had.

The Dark Side group chat did not exist anymore. She knew why and raged at herself more than anyone for succumbing to the anonymity of the internet.

Apparently, all her so-called online friends were nothing more than his mercenary creatures…

 **Hubby:** _We will figure this out._

 **Hubby:** _I love you. Sweet dreams…_

Ben texted her all the time, odd little things, snippets of thoughts, questions asking how she was, reminders to do things like buy eggs and that it was Thursday and time to take the trash bins to the curb and recommend movies she might like…and then, there were the presents.

The first time she saw a box from Amazon on her porch, she was reminded so strongly of him in his delivery uniform she burst into tears.

It was a new vibrator, along with a computer-generated printed note that said, _Sorry I stole your other one again. I was mad. XXX_

Rey hadn’t even noticed the old one had been missing, because the idea of trying to get off without him was just too upsetting.

There was no way she would ever be able to have an orgasm again.

That miserable thought made her cry for hours.

She wasn’t really on speaking terms with Luke, although they were still neighbors. She guessed she would still call 9-1-1 if his house was on fire, or something. Probably.

But other than the occasional cold stare in his direction if they happened to cross paths, Rey did not speak to him.

Still, her wi-fi kept working with the new password, so she mostly just tried to avoid her neighbor.

Every time she came home from work and found a First Order delivery truck parked in the street, her heart skipped a beat. Sometimes it wasn’t for her, but usually it was.

One day she approached the front door and found a very large box waiting for her.

An enormous box of Legos…

A tear streamed down her cheek. And another. And they wouldn’t stop. She’d already cried rivers of tears, but this…

The fucking Legos.

Inside the box on plain paper was a note that simply said: _Sorry I broke your other ones. Here are some new Legos for your class. XXX_

And after the Legos, she wore her wedding band every day, and at parent-teacher conference time, Betsy-Jean’s mother eyed it speculatively and tried to ask nosy questions, but Rey just gave the woman a knowing smile that told her to butt-out.

And it was mildly satisfying, even though she was sure everyone was gossiping about her again.

She got so many flower deliveries she had taken to bringing them to school and decorating the teacher’s lounge and her classroom with them.

She even gave a lovely arrangement to Holdo, which warmed the woman up to her considerably after the stunt with the fire alarm… Fortunately Luke and Leia had stuck around to patch up the school and explain, too, or Rey probably wouldn’t have a job anymore.

Not that she needed it. Ben had sent her a black American Express card and Rey was pretty sure she could probably buy a house with the damn thing, if she’d wanted to.

But the name on the card, _Rey Solo_ , was too much, too painful to look at. Because it reminded her. So, she tucked it away into her desk drawer and tried not to think about it, except for the occasions when she would check on it. Just to make sure it was still there.

She checked on it several times a day.

Ben sent her long, wistful letters in his beautiful script, telling her of all the wonderful places he’d been, the amazing stories he’d seen, albeit from a monster’s point of view.

He told the most incredible stories. And they were always love stories, and they always ended happily, and every time she read them her heart swelled just a bit more with love for her wonderful, monstrous beast of a husband…

He never mentioned anything overtly sexual, other than telling her once he missed the way she smelled.

It broke her heart.

She drove the SUV and never did take the Ducati back to Leia’s. But winter was upon them, and the Silencer was safe and comfortable and did excellently in the snow and ice.

 **Hubby:** _Roads are getting icy. I had snow tires put on the car._

 **Hubby:** _Drive safe, sweetheart._

She had no way to return his texts. Every time she tried it, she only got a send error message.

There were no return address labels on anything he shipped her, and the flowers were all delivered through an online service.

His letters appeared in her mailbox, but without a return address or even a postage stamp to tell where they’d come from.

She had no way to reach him, and so she lived each day wondering if maybe today he would stop, or give up, or realize her wish was the only thing keeping them both from certain doom.

And how could she explain how much she loved him and missed him if she had no idea where he was?

Mostly she just dreamed of stroking his hair or kissing his face or telling him how sorry, how dreadfully sorry she was she’d done this, and he didn’t deserve it and he thought he was bad and evil and broken but really it was _she_ who was the bad one…

The worst were the nights when she dreamed of him. The worst nights were those when she _remembered_.

They were not shared dreams with any particular magic to them.

They always started the same, with her sitting on the bed in her hut by the old mill and Ben kneeling before her, so handsome, and they promised to love each other always, and his eyes had burned into hers and he’d kissed her so sweetly…and then…after, when he’d been so gentle and rough and made her feel so good and wanted and _his_ , and it had been so perfect until she was running through the dark woods, telling Finn to stop taking her hand, but he was pulling her and the voice came and told her how it would be _all her fault…_

And she would sit up in a wild sweaty mess and not be able to sleep again, sometimes for days.

Yes. Those nights were the worst.

But, eventually time passed, and Ben never stopped texting and sending her things and telling her he missed her, and they would figure it out.

Until the day she received a delivery that changed everything.

The final book of the _Dark Side_ series.

She read it, with dread knotting inside her until the very end. Because she knew the fates of Kylo Ren, the character, and Ben Solo, her husband, were inextricably linked.

She read the whole book in a single sitting, calling in to work and telling Holdo she didn’t feel well.

When she reached the end of the story, she was shocked. She could not breathe, and she could not cry.

She sat in her cozy, lonely little house, full of flowers and letters and food and reminders of him everywhere. The wedding band on her finger shone richly in the lamplight.

And she made a decision.

She needed to go to him.


	13. Devil's Downfall

The first thing she noticed was the title. Stark red letters on a black cover, just like the other _Dark Side_ books.

Devil’s Downfall _has an ominous ring to it_ , Rey thought, nervous dread pumping through her veins. 

All the previous books had been dedicated simply: “For My Persephone. I will come for you, sweetheart. I promise. XXX, Your Hades”.

Rey had always wondered about the author’s private life, about the identity of “Persephone”, a woman who obviously inspired such passionate storytelling by the author, B. Hades.

And now she knew.

It had been her, all along.

She opened the cover, expecting to see the same dedication as in each of the previous stories.

But, this book’s dedication was different. Rey immediately sensed something was desperately wrong.

_For My Persephone._

_For the past and unrighteous acts I’ve committed thereof, I beg your forgiveness._

_For the destruction of reason that led me to you, I will never be sorry._

_I will never regret coming for you._

_XXX, Your Hades_

 

Her hands shook. This book definitely had an ominous ring to it already.

Unwillingly, Rey opened the book to the first page and began reading. After the opening paragraph, her heart began to pound.

She read all through the day, barely unable to tear her eyes away from the pages. Late afternoon light faded outside by the time she realized he had not texted her all day. She checked her phone. Maybe the battery was dead?

It wasn’t.

She ran outside and checked the mailbox.

No letters waited for her, for the first time in ages.

Fearful anticipation sank into her.

_He’s giving up._

_No._

_He’s waiting. For the story to end._

_He’s giving me time to read it. He’s waiting for me to decide..._

She ran back into the house and snatched up the book. She read all the way through to the end.

Rey looked around her cozy house full of reminders of him. Her wedding ring shone richly in the lamplight.

She had to go to him.

And she needed help.

 

**Leia’s House, That Evening**

Rey pulled the Silencer into the driveway and briefly wondered if Leia would be okay with her showing up out of the blue.

She sat there for a minute, steeling herself for what she knew she had to do.

She strongly recalled the two previous occasions she had visited Leia’s house.

The first time she had been under the influence of Luke’s machinations, then Ben’s. Luke had sent her there intending for her to kill Ben, and Ben had turned the situation into…some really hot sex.

And then Leia had sent her off on an errand that had delivered her straight into Ben’s hands. Where he’d used her for leverage to get his whip back...

The second time she had gone to Leia’s house was under Ben’s orders, to get some food, rest, and her memory. Then Luke had manipulated her with magic – _again!_ – and sent her off to kill Ben at Hamlin Elementary school.

 _Manipulative assholes_ might be too kind a term for these people.

But, now she was back, this time acting solely on her own will.

And, she needed their help. In fact, manipulative assholes were just the kind of people who might know what to do.

Rey exited the warm, luxurious confines of the SUV and approached the front door, but Leia opened it before she could knock.

“Everyone’s here. Come on in,” Leia said in a cryptic welcome.

 _Who is “everyone”?_ Rey wondered. _And how did they know to be here?_

Turns out, a whole group of people sat in the living room, already decorated for the holidays, with brightly lit windows and a cheerfully twinkling Christmas tree, and even stockings hanging over the mantel of the fireplace.

Rey took off her warm winter coat, another gift from Ben, and handed it to Leia before stepping into the room.

The conversation faltered, then stopped, as she approached.

She noticed Finn Storm and recognized the dark-haired man from Maz’s that night. They greeted her with smiles. She went over to them, and Finn stood, wrapping her in a bear hug and a whisper of, “Rey! I’m so glad you’re okay.”

She hugged him back, reluctantly at first, then harder as she realized she had forgiven him long ago. And she’d missed him.

The man he’d been talking to stood as well and introduced himself. “Hey there. I’m Poe. Poe Dameron. You must be Rey.”

“Uh, yeah. Hi. Nice to meet you,” Rey replied, swiping an errant tear from her eye as Finn sat down again. She hadn't expected to feel such a warm rush of familiarity at the sight of Finn. 

Then she heard Luke’s voice from the seat behind her.

“Rey.” That was all he said. Just her name. She turned in surprise. His bright blue eyes held worlds of sadness and contrition.

“Hi, Luke,” she mumbled, not sure how to address the person she’d stonewalled and ignored for months.

“Rey, you know Maz, and this is Chewie,” Leia interjected into the awkward moment, gesturing to the couple seated on the loveseat across from Finn and Poe.

Maz’s dark eyes sparkled avidly over Rey’s form and she patted the giant of a man next to her with a loudly-whispered aside, “That’s her, Chewie. The one who used your pool stick to whoop the boy at his own game…”

Chewie threw back his head and roared with laughter, then stretched out a hand from his seat. His hand was at least the size of a dinner plate. His arms were long enough Rey had to lean in only a little to reach his and shake it.

“I’d get up, but Artoo is…” The man’s huge head nodded to his lap and Rey noticed a fat gray cat curled up, sleeping there.

Rey smiled, a real smile, for the first time in days, possibly weeks.

Her heart lifted. These people were all here for her. And they were going to help her.

And Ben.

It was good to have friends, she realized. But it was even better to have hope.

“Rey. Won’t you please sit down?” Leia said, handing her a glass of eggnog. Rey sat between Finn and Poe on the sofa and Leia took a matching chair next to Luke’s.

She caught a whiff of cinnamon and booze and sipped carefully at the eggnog. It was good, but knowing Leia it would definitely have a kick.

Rey didn’t bother to ask how they all knew to be here when she arrived. She’d long since learned the world would not always make sense. She would just have to roll with it.

“All right. Now that we are all here, we need to get everyone up to speed. Rey? I’m going to start talking, and you interrupt me if I’m missing something important…” Leia said, taking charge of the room with militant efficiency.

Rey nodded in agreement and took another sip of eggnog. It was damn good. She would have to get the recipe. But first things first.

“We are here because we all have the same problem. Actually, two problems. Ben. And Rey.”

Rey shifted uncomfortably but didn’t say a word. Leia was right.

Leia managed to summarize things nicely.

In the Realm Beyond, Ben and Rey had fallen in love. He had broken his betrothal to the Princess, and instead of cementing an alliance between the Jedi and the Sith, he’d joined the Dark Side thinking the powers he’d gained would finish what his grandfather had started. 

He’d used the Bride Gifts, realm-anchoring artifacts, to marry Rey, and they’d consummated the marriage, making it legal and binding.

But Rey had taken the anchors the morning after their wedding, gone into the dark forest, and had a vision.

Rey took a deep breath at this. She wasn’t sure she was supposed to talk about it with anyone else.

Luke interjected before she could. “Rey had a reason for doing what she did. She was trying to save Ben and everyone else from inevitable destruction. But the less we talk about it, the better.”

Luke gave her a quelling glance, and she understood he did not want her to go into more detail.

Rey agreed. The fewer souls who knew the full scope of her vision, the better. Snoke, the Dark Mage from beyond the veil of mortal realms, would hunt endlessly for those anchors.

Anyone who knew anything would be targeted, tortured for information, and summarily executed.

Which was one reason why Rey had agreed to give her memory to Luke, the Sandman, and allow him to transform the anchors into disguised objects.

And, she’d dragged Finn into it, too. They would need to talk. _Later._

“So… are those anchors really the last ones in existence?” Rey asked quietly. She'd seen the suspicions in Ben's mind, his conversations with Snoke. 

“Yes.” Luke’s reply was short and to the point. He knew Rey was the only other person in the room who fully understood the implications if what she was asking was true.

Because Rey knew exactly how many remained here, in the mortal realm. Ben had the Harp. He’d already sent the Spindle, Cloak, and Lamp to Snoke.

There was only one anchor unaccounted for. No. Not unaccounted for.

Rey knew exactly where it was.

Rey felt the color leave her cheeks as she realized…

“So…The last one. It’s in my car. Ben stole it months ago…” she murmured.

“I would know if he’d found it and sent it back,” Luke assured her.

Rey would have known, too. She would have felt the force of it leave this realm, as she had when Ben sent the others away.

“We also know Ben had a Text and he…corrupted it…” Luke went on. “He’s twisted the storylines and in doing so has basically nullified the remaining Texts…”

“But, if we had them, couldn’t we…?” Rey started to ask.

Luke shook his head.

He sighed deeply. “I don’t know where the other Texts are. They are in a realm I cannot reach. That is the hubris of the Jedi...”

“What?” Leia barked. “What do you mean?”

Luke returned her glare with no small amount of ire. “It means those other Texts are nowhere to be found, Leia. It means we are…on the precipice of ruin…”

Rey’s heart started thumping double-time. This was bad. Very bad.

With the guideposts to anchor the realms in the hands of Darkness and nothing but one twisted storyline in existence…

_Oh, shit._

Finn and Poe glanced around the room, looking a little panicked.

“Um?” Poe interjected. “Why can’t we just go get the last anchor and blow it up? Then that Snoke dude won’t be able to…?”

“Ever heard of a Black Hole?” Leia replied with a touch of scorn. “That’s what happens when an artifact is destroyed…and if Snoke has all of them...”

“Worlds, or realms, are built on stories. Eons ago in the War Between the Dark and Light, the stories were inked in Sacred Texts to preserve balance, order, in all the realms. The Texts were hidden away to prevent either side from manipulating them to their own ends. Apparently, the Jedi hid them so well, they disappeared, although _that_ was news to me until five minutes ago,” Leia sniped, flinging another accusing glare at her brother.

Luke’s shoulders sagged a bit, but he simply sipped his eggnog.

Leia went on, at a nod from Luke, “Each realm exists on a series of archetypes, based upon these stories. Within those realms, the Jedi Order arose from the War. The Jedi were tasked with preserving the anchors, ensuring the stories are played out in accordance with the Texts. The Dark Side has always wanted more. More power, total domination, whatever. The War wiped out many of them. And we tried to preserve what we could with Ben’s betrothal… After he turned, they sent Sith warlords to find and destroy the artifacts. This would allow them to control the realm, so darkness could rule.”

But Rey already knew this. She’d already seen it.

“That glimpse you saw of him as a monster, Rey, was simply another version of what the world would look like if the Dark powers rose again, as they threatened to before the War. It wouldn’t _end_ everything, just change it… I don’t think Ben really understands that. I think he’s been obsessed with you for too long…ever since…”

“Ever since what?”

“Ever since he diverted from his originally scripted role…from being the Hero and became…something else.”

“I don’t –”

“He was not ever written to be with you. In the Sacred Texts. But. He was tempted by the Dark Side. And by the time we realized he’d already turned…it was too late. Your marriage activated the anchors and Luke took them here, to the mortal realm, to hide you. But he could only hide you and physically disguise the anchors. So, he kept you hidden away…in a state of waking sleep…so you wouldn’t know and try to…find them. Or use them…”

That’s why Luke had sent her to exist as a nobody in L.A.

And why Luke kept trying to kill Ben. If Hades was sent to the Underworld, he would need to wait until the next storyline reset itself.

But with only one Text remaining…the storyline would never reset itself.

Ben would be trapped there forever. Rey wanted to panic at the idea. 

 _Devil's Downfall_ was Ben's last attempt to reach her, she knew it in her gut. Ben believed he could wait for the next storyline to reset itself and he would come for her again...But he wouldn't be able to. 

And whoever controlled the anchors. Would control eternity.

Rey met Luke's eyes and could see that he understood it, too. 

It was Finn who interrupted their silent communication. “So…if Ben’s not in the Hero’s role, then who’s been the Hero this whole time?” 

Luke and Leia spoke at the same time.

“Han Solo.”

**Hell**

Hux was hovering again, and he looked agitated.

“Why aren’t you guarding the door like a good dog?” Kylo growled at him from his seat at the center of the nightclub.

After publishing the final installation of the _Dark Side_ series, Kylo had dressed in his most severely cut black suit, gone to Canto Bight, taken the elevator to Hell, and sprawled himself over a bright-red leather, u-shaped bench situated upon a raised dais next to the dance floor. From there, he had a 360-degree view of the entire place, and everyone in the club could see him, too, which served to emphasize his exalted position as Head Sinner and Chief Hellion at Large.

Given the quantity and variety of scumbags who constantly occupied the place, Kylo found himself needing to make frequent appearances in Hell to remind everyone who was really in charge.

Otherwise things tended to get out of hand rather quickly.

Once there, he’d ordered bottle after bottle of the River Styx’s finest booze and proceeded to get himself roaringly, disgustingly, mind-numbingly drunk.

He quirked an eyebrow at Hux, not used to being kept waiting.

“There’s a girl here to see you milord, but I told her we don’t…” Hux groveled.

Kylo fucking hated him.

“A girl? What girl?” Kylo hissed.

“Er… She’s not wearing much, and she insists on speaking to-" Hux made air quotes with his pasty fingers and Kylo briefly considered snapping them off. "'Ben or Kylo or Hades or whatever he’s calling himself these days.' She says she’s your wife…and she is quite _demanding_.”

That definitely _sounded_ like Rey.

But there was no way she would be here…Kylo stared sullenly into his cocktail and didn’t look up.

Rey would never come here for him. She was far too stubborn... He was going to have to wait it out until the next storyline reset itself...

A woman approached his table. Definitely leggy, definitely beautiful.

Like Rey.

Definitely wearing… _holy shit. It’s her._ Wait, now there were two of her.

Wait. He was perhaps a little tipsy.

He crooked his finger at her.

She obeyed, strolling smoothly up to his table to stand quietly, waiting for some kind of reaction. 

Bleary-eyed, he took a long swig of his drink and narrowed his eyes, trying to focus them.

“Mom helped with the wardrobe again, didn’t she?” Kylo muttered, sliding his eyes over the curves of his wife’s body.

 

**Leia’s House**

Everyone sipped their eggnog and sat quietly. Finally, Luke asked Rey, “So, the make-up thing? It’s in your car?”

“What?” Rey’s thoughts were far away.

“The thing, the thing with the make-up in it…like a…I don’t know!”

“A compact?”

“Yeah, that!”

“Yeah. In my car.” Which was currently with Ben. Or wherever he'd left it.

“Rey. We need to find it.”

“No shit.”

“Hey! Language!” Luke admonished, although there was no heat behind it. “He’ll know what it is as soon as he sees it.”

She knew.

Luke continued, “If that object falls into the wrong hands…even if Snoke doesn’t get ahold of it…”

She knew that, too. If something as innocuous as a Zippo held so much power…

Luke seemed to read the question in her mind. “It’s a direct link to the Underworld…a way to communicate…but also, a way to bring forth…bad creatures.”

_Fuck._

“Has Ben mentioned where he is? Rey?” Leia prompted.

“No. I can’t text or call him…and everything he sends me is missing a return address,” Rey murmured.

“Any clues or hints from his letters?” Finn wondered.

Rey shook her head. “He just says he’s in hell, and he misses me…”

“Aw, goddammit,” Leia muttered. “I always said I’d never go back there, Luke. I fucking hate that place.”

“What place? Where? Hell?” Rey asked, incredulous.

“Oh, yes. I’ve been there…” Leia stated darkly. “How do you think I got ahold of Ben’s whip?”

“That wasn’t the only time you were there…tell her the whole story why don’t you?” Luke prodded.

“Luke. Be quiet,” Leia snapped.

“The whole story?” Rey asked curiously.

Rey never had siblings and had no idea if the glaring and biting back and forth repartee was unique to Luke and Leia or par for the course.

Maz, who had been sitting quietly with Chewie through the entire conversation, cackled loudly. Chewie roared with mirth.

“Go on, tell her Leia!” Luke jibed, encouraged by the sniggering laughter of Maz and Chewie. 

“Fine. I used to work there. For the Hutt family. They were gangsters. Back in the eighties,” Leia retorted primly.

“Doing what?” Luke dragged it out as if he were truly amused.

Leia huffed and glared at him. “It was a legitimate job, Luke… and more work than you’ve ever done!”

Then she turned to Rey with a lift of her chin. “I was…an exotic dancer…”

Well. That explained how Leia knew how to dress Rey the night she went to Maz’s…

Luke smirked and waggled his eyebrows at Rey.

“But. I don’t understand.” Rey grasped maybe Leia was talking about something different than what Rey was picturing. “Where is hell, exactly?” Rey asked, confused.

“Canto Bight Casino. In Sin City.” Luke answered smugly, staring at his sister with unfathomable scrutiny.

“What?” Rey asked again.

“Vegas, Rey. Hell is a nightclub. In Las Vegas,” Leia bit out.

_Las Vegas? Sin City? Actually, that kind of made sense…_

“Well…Then we’re going to have to go to Vegas, then,” Rey said determinedly, meeting the eyes of everyone in the room.

 

**Hell**

“You shouldn’t be here, baby, this place is full of scum,” Ben told her. “Like me.”

“You are not scum, Ben. Just…occasionally badly behaved…and apparently drunk…”

Ben tipped his glass in her direction, sloshing what looked like water over the edge before taking a healthy swallow.

Whatever Rey had been expecting, it wasn’t this.

As they’d approached Las Vegas, Rey’s mind had whirled into a rapidly descending maelstrom of scenarios, speculating how their first encounter might go after spending so many months apart.

She’d been expecting hostile, hurt, and defensive Ben, for sure. 

She’d been expecting his typical sarcastic arrogance to overtake him, as he often used those traits to bully his way through uncomfortable conversations.

If anything, she’d been expecting…punishment of some kind.

But not this handsome, despondent, totally _sloshed_ man in front of her.

He’d grown a goatee, and it did give him a more dangerously sinister appearance. His loosened tie hung limply around his neck. The top buttons of his black silk shirt were undone to reveal a hint of muscled chest.

He’d never looked more like the Devil as he stared blearily at her through red-rimmed eyes.

“Hey, Dad.” Ben spoke to someone just beyond Rey’s shoulder. She turned and met the eyes of an older man who carried a very great resemblance to Ben.

_Han Solo._

Ben reached for his drink again, bumping it clumsily and sloshing more nasty-smelling alcohol over the table in front of him.

Rey moved to take the glass away, but Han got to it first.

“What is that stuff?” she asked, scrunching her nose. It smelled like straight diesel.

“Water. From the River Styx,” Han replied, gently plucking the glass from Ben’s wavering hand. “Supposed to make you forget everything once you’ve tasted it.”

“I’m immune,” Ben hiccupped. “So fucking immuuuune…You shouldn’t be here, baby. This place is full of scum…”

Rey sighed, “You literally just said that to me five seconds ago…”

“Well. It is. Full of scum.” He belched softly, and Rey found it both disgusting and adorable.

“How much of this stuff has he been drinking?” Rey hissed to Han.

Han shrugged. “Dunno. Just got here.”

“I’ll tell you how much,” Ben slurred. “A _week_.”

Rey shook her head. “I’m taking you home, Ben. Can you even walk?”

“Home is where the heart is,” he muttered, glaring at her sullenly.

“Well, then, you’re coming with me. I’m where your heart is, aren’t I?” She sounded as if she were trying to convince herself…

His eyes lit up, and he gave her a huge smile. The one with the dimple that melted Rey’s insides into a hot puddle of goo. Her heart fluttered with relief.

“You’re so pretty, Rey. I’m maybe drunk.” He bit his lip, looking a bit sheepish, she melted a little more.

“I can see that, babe. Can you walk?” How the heck was she going to get him out of here?

“’Course I can. I’m nodda little child.” He stood abruptly, rattling the table as he bumped against it.

He wove a little, but remained somewhat steady on his feet, and she moved around to drape his arm over her shoulders. Han took the other side.

From around the expanse of Ben’s chest, Han looked at Rey. “Boy’s right. You shouldn’t be in a place like this… Lotta dangerous creatures in here…”

Rey grunted. This place reminded her strongly of Mos Eisley and the neighborhood where she grew up. She knew it was dangerous.

But she was dangerous, too.

She took a breath to reply to Han’s remark, but just then Ben lurched a bit and slid a giant, sweaty hand into the side of her outfit, giving her breast a squeeze and grinning at her like a little kid who just stole a piece of candy.

“Ben. Now is not the time,” she bit off as his warm hand squeezed her again.

He dipped his head into her neck and he inhaled deeply.

“Mmmmm. You smell sooo good…”

Rey huffed, exasperated. He smelled as if he’d been pickling himself in liquor for…a week, actually.

“So soft. You’re. A pretty…girl...” he sniffed her again and Rey felt his tongue slide wetly into her ear.

_Oh, for fuck’s sake._

Han noticed and laughed, “All right, lover boy, let’s get you to the elevator…”

They made their precarious way through the club, the crowd parting respectfully to allow them to pass. 

Ben lurched again, and they stumbled their way toward the elevator through which Rey had entered the club. There really wasn’t an exit, but Rey assumed this was the way to go.

They were beginning to attract a lot of attention as they approached Hux at the door.

Hux shook his ginger head disdainfully and sneered at Han Solo.

“How’s Leia?” Han slid a knowing eye over Rey’s outfit. “I’d recognize her work anywhere.”

If Ben inherited his mother’s acerbic wit and soulful eyes, then his shit-eating grin and lecherous charm was all straight Han Solo.

“She’s good.”

“I’ll have to leave you here...” Han grunted, ignoring Hux entirely. He hefted his son into the elevator until Ben was propped against the wall.

“What you’re not coming with?” Rey asked.

“Can’t. I’m meeting someone here for business.”

Han slipped a gun from the waistband of his pants, holding it out to Rey.

“Here, you might need this once you get out there…”

“Thanks, but I can handle myself,” she said, eyeing the gun.

“I know you can, sweetheart, that’s why I’m giving it to you,” Han replied sarcastically.

There _were_ some badass-looking motherfuckers outside in line waiting to get in. Rey considered taking it, then shook her head. She had enough power to wipe out everyone within several city blocks. She did not need a gun.

“You are the only one who’s ever called me sweetheart, except Ben,” Rey said with a slight smile.

“A regular chip off the old block, he is. Although don’t tell him I said that.” Han tucked his gun away.

Ben squinted around and suddenly whipped his head back exclaiming, “I never noticed the ceiling in here before…”

“What about Ben…? He’s so drunk…You think he might need a weapon?” Rey wondered. 

“Nah. Boy’s hard to kill,” Han said confidently, a touch of pride in his voice.

“Yes, I am.” Ben muttered. Rey heard him say something about needing an anti-aircraft missile and Han rolled his eyes.

The elevator doors slid closed, and Han said, “See you around, kid. Say hi to your mom for me…”

Rey spent the elevator ride holding Ben against the wall while he petted her arm and naked back and hair, occasionally punctuated with slight hiccups, and grinned at her with glazed eyes. Thankfully, he remained upright, for the most part.

Finn and Poe were waiting just outside, and Rey was glad to see they appeared to be holding their own in the line of scary-looking dudes trying to get in…

She never would have managed to get Ben back to his penthouse without Finn and Poe helping. By the time they got there, Ben seemed a bit steadier on his feet.

_Good. Maybe he is sobering up a bit._

"Thanks, Finn. And Poe. I'll take it from here," Rey said gratefully, stepping into Ben's place after swiping the key card she'd taken from his wallet. 

Finn released him through the door, and Ben mumbled, “Thank you, squire.”  

Finn stared at Rey and mouthed, “Squire? What the fuck?”

“I’ll explain later!” Rey hissed, holding Ben around the waist to keep him upright.

Poe pulled the door closed with a shake of his head. 

_Shower. Where’s the shower?_

“I feel spinny,” Ben said. “I should probly lie down.”

His breath was a bit sour, and she wondered when the last time was he ate anything that wasn’t cocktail olives… She added brush his teeth to the to-do list.

“Okay, but not yet, babe, can you just…show me where’s the shower?”

“Hmmm…yes I can…” he agreed, a playful glint appearing in his eyes. “You wanna sseee me naked?”

She did want to. But he needed a shower and some sleep. 

“Sure, babe. But you’re kinda wasted right now, so let’s save the fun stuff for later, okay?” she coaxed, helping him lurch in the direction of what she hoped was the bathroom.

How she got him into the shower, she had no idea, but she did eventually maneuver him into the massive walk-in and thanked heaven there was a tiled, built-in bench along one side.

Turns out, he was a very affectionate drunk, something Rey had never experienced before.

She sat him down and started stripping him of his tie, jacket, shoes, and socks…

It was difficult because he kept pawing at her and grinning like a naughty teenager.

“Ben. We are going to have to talk about your manners when you sober up,” Rey remarked. She tried to sound stern, but couldn’t help laughing to herself. This was definitely _not_ what she'd been expecting. 

“If I have to be naked, so do you, sweehard. Thass rules. I don’t make ‘em up.”

“Okay, babe. If that’s the rule, I’ll get naked, too,” Rey cajoled. “But you first. Can you just…help? Um…?”

They got him out of his slacks and shorts and she managed to figure out the dials to get some steamy water going.

Then she stripped out of her skimpy outfit and started scrubbing down her giant, drunken child of a husband.

He was just so damn happy she was there. He kept saying so over and over.

It would have been hilarious if it wasn’t mildly heartbreaking.

_He is going to have the world’s worst hangover when he wakes up…_

By the time she was done getting him cleaned up and convinced him to brush his teeth, he was weaving on his feet from exhaustion and booze.

She coaxed him into bed to his repeated question, “You’re staying, right? You won’t go?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Ben. I’m right here…”

She managed to get an aspirin and a full glass of water down him before he stretched out on the enormous oversized bed, face down, arms and legs sprawled almost to the edges of the bed.

“Rey. When I see straight again. We need to have a talk,” he whispered tiredly, catching her eyes.

“I know, Ben,” she soothed, sweeping her hand over his forehead.

“A serious talk,” he uttered into the pillow, a thread of steel in his voice. “About your _punishment_.”

Rey’s stomach lurched just a bit at that, but his eyes fluttered closed before she could ask him what he meant.

When he started snoring, she shook her head, tucked a sheet around him, and went digging through his clothes for something to sleep in.

 

He slept for almost fourteen hours, something he’d never done before, ever.

He vaguely recollected a warm, soft, sweet-smelling person spooning around him in the night. At one point, he was sure he heard quiet sobbing and the words, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” whispered over and over.

He woke to the smell of food and realized he was starving.

He noticed a room service cart, tucked just inside the door to the bedroom.

Coffee.

A full glass of water sat on the nightstand.

He gulped down the water and jumped out of bed, running into the living room of his penthouse, looking for any sign of her…

But Rey wasn’t there, and his heart dropped.

She said she’d be there. She promised she’d stay…

“Rey?” he spoke urgently into the silence.

Nothing.

His heart fell as he stepped further into the living room.

And then it picked up double-time when he found her sleeping on the sofa, a blanket draped over her legs and one of his silk shirts covering the rest of her…

For the first time in a very long time, he smiled with genuine peace. 

And anticipation.


	14. The Devil's Due

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: While there may be some elements of dub-con and BDSM here, they are both totally into it: Remember, they’ve been inside each other’s minds. 
> 
> Still, if it might bother you and you want to skip over, I have segmented the scene with lines. 
> 
> MIND THE UPDATED TAGS my darlings!

She opened her eyes and saw him there, staring at her with slight bewilderment. And something else she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

She had no words.

But he simply asked, “Did I imagine it, or did I grope you in public last night?”

A small giggle escaped her, and she nodded.

“My apologies for that. I…have no excuse. Did I…do anything else bad? Other than that?” He looked so sincere and forlorn.

She smiled and shook her head, running her eyes over his naked body.

He _had_ stuck his tongue in her ear, but all things considered, she wouldn’t call that _bad_. And as for the public feel-up, Rey had pretty much forgotten it. Plus, she was pretty sure she’d walked past a small orgy at the booth next to the dance floor, when she’d been dragging him out of that nightclub, so all things considered…

“How the hell did you get me home?”

“I had some help.”

“Ah,” he huffed. “That’s good.”

She sat up a bit and nodded again. As always, he seemed to take over the room, filling the space with his presence.

“I must have fallen asleep out here after breakfast was brought up…” she murmured.

His stomach gave a loud rumble and she sat up all the way asking, “Did you eat?”

He shook his head.

“Well…It’s going to get cold!”

Instead of responding to her accusatory statement, he scooped her off the sofa and carried her into the bedroom.

He set her on the bed and climbed on, propping himself against the headboard.

Then he stretched out his hand and pulled the cart over to the bedside, as if it were attached to his hand by a pulley.

Rey shook her head and muttered, “Show off.”

He gave her a wicked grin and pinched her playfully.

“Food first. Then talk.”

“Okay,” she agreed, kneeling at the edge of the bed to load up a plate of still-warm eggs, waffles, fruit, and toast.

She propped a pillow in Ben’s lap and set a full plate on it, then poured him a mug of steaming hot coffee before getting one for herself.

“Hangover?” she asked between enormous bites of toast that she’d spread thickly with jam.

“Devil,” he rejoined with a quirk of his eyebrows, taking a huge swallow of coffee.

“Ah.” Of course. Being who he was, she supposed it made sense he wouldn’t have a hangover, not even after a week of straight drinking.

His eyes landed pointedly on her wedding band and he took another sip.

A shiver trailed down Rey’s spine as she recalled his words from the night before…

_We need to have a talk…a serious talk…about your punishment…_

She’d missed him terribly, and this lull of normalcy was getting under her skin. Because she knew eventually it would have to end.

After months apart, they both seemed to come to a mutual agreement to keep the conversation neutral. So much unspoken emotion existed between them, Rey had no idea how they were going to unpack it all…she didn’t know where to start.

For now, they would pretend they were a normal couple, hanging out in Vegas, eating room service breakfast and chatting quietly. But soon, they would need to address much bigger problems.

So, they would exist in the moment and take things one at a time. For now.

She watched him from the corner of her eye and once again noticed his graceful economy of movement as he ate. He lifted each bite to his mouth precisely, deliberately, and he chewed methodically. Without hurry.

She couldn’t quite pinpoint how he managed to look so regal munching on a piece of bacon while sitting naked in his rumpled bed.

Then it struck her. He looked regal because he was _royalty_. He’d probably never had to miss a meal in his life, so he didn’t eat as if the food would scurry off the plate.

He didn’t chew and swallow as if he wasn’t too sure where the next bite was coming from. Not like her.

She felt awkwardly inelegant sitting cross-legged next to him, and she tried to slow down and not gobble her breakfast like a heathen.

“Don’t do that,” he whispered, watching her closely. “Don’t stop…being yourself…because of me.”

She cocked her head at him, not sure what to say.

“Besides,” he told her with a glint of anticipation in his eyes, “you’re going to need those calories…after we’re done talking…I’m going to work you over. _Hard…_ ”

She choked a little on her coffee. _Shit._

But he merely took a bite of waffle and returned his focus to his breakfast.

Rey changed the subject. “Ben. _Devil’s Downfall_ …the ending…?”

“Oh? You didn’t like it?” He beamed at her, letting her know he fully aware she was moving the conversation away from the _thing_ between them…but, she wasn’t quite ready to talk about why she’d sent him away. Or why she came back to him. Not yet. 

Rey plowed forward, determined not to lose the thread of dialog over a glimpse of that dimple in his cheek and the spark in his whiskey-colored eyes. “I _loved_ the story – the whole series. But the ending! You can’t leave us all on a cliffhanger like that!”

“It’s _my_ story. I can do whatever I want,” he replied haughtily.

Stubborn to the bone, she argued, “Kylo Ren’s story did not end well. _Not at all._ He ended up miserable and alone in a jail cell in Russia, full of remorse and bitter regret.”

Ben’s thick hair, mussed from sleep, stuck up on one side, revealing the shell of his ear, and Rey found herself distracted by the urge to trace a finger over it.

He was so handsome. She loved him so much.

“That wasn’t the part of the story you were _most_ thinking about,” he pointed out quietly, ruthlessly redirecting the subject back into line.

He was right, dammit. He knew exactly what part of _Devil’s Downfall_ had been most on her mind…

The part where Kylo Ren was betrayed by the heroine, who steals a valuable piece of information from him and leaves him for dead. Only he finds her later and exacts his very sexy brand of revenge and forgiveness. Because he’s been desperately in love with her the whole time…

Rey had not missed the various parallels between the story and her own fraught marriage. Nor had she missed the painfully vulnerable way her husband had expressed his feelings and desires to her in the only way he could…

She realized she held her coffee halfway to her mouth because she was staring at him. Thinking about it.

“It really was a brilliant story, Ben,” she remarked, taking a final sip before setting the empty mug on the cart next to her.

Ben’s mood, shifting like quicksilver, was unreadable.

He handed her his plate and mug, which she also set on the breakfast cart.

“Come here,” he mumbled, and she crawled into his arms and rested her head against his bare chest.

It felt _sooo_ good. She’d missed him so much. And she had no idea how to even begin her explanation.

“I missed you,” he told her, kissing her hair, and if he hugged her a little too tightly, she didn’t care. His body was warm and solid beneath her, and his voice was soft and tender. And he smelled…oh, she’d missed the way he smelled.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in the warm skin under his jaw. She felt the scrape of his facial hair against her temple as he said gently, “We need to talk. Can we do that?”

“Yes,” she agreed, right before she started bawling.

The tears had come from nowhere, bursting forth in shudders that burned her chest until she could not speak.

Ben held her and rubbed her back and _shushed_ softly into her hair. It took her a few minutes before she could catch her breath. Once the deep, wracking tremors stopped she hiccupped somewhat embarrassed into his tear-dampened skin.

She tried to scrub the tears off his neck and chest with the sleeve of her silk shirt, but it wasn’t very absorbent.

“It’s okay,” Ben said, stilling her hand. “First of all. I know whatever you have in that head of yours is something you don’t think you can or should share with magic. And that’s okay. We probably shouldn’t go into each other’s minds right now. I think… I think it might be dangerous, and I get it. No magic, for now. I promise.”

No magic. He’d promised, and he would keep his word. Rey visibly relaxed and tried to compose herself.

“Um. Okay,” Rey swallowed down another choking sob.

“Okay. When you’re ready. Just…tell me what you can, sweetheart,” he whispered, smoothing her hair out of her eyes.

“The last anchor. It’s in my car – do you know…where it is? Is it in a safe place?”

“Your car is parked in a secured, private garage here at the casino. Canto Bight has impeccable standards with parking security. Nobody will disturb it…” he assured her. “And…I still have the harp.”

She wanted to ask him why he hadn’t sent it, but he preempted her tangent. “Start from the beginning. What happened after I left…that day?”

“Well. After our wedding…the next day. You had only just gone to talk to your family, and I…Finn came over and it was very early,” she started, and he tried to appear relaxed, but she could feel him tense. “Finn said something bad was happening and Luke had sent him. And we had to hide.”

So, she went with Finn and they took the Bride Gifts. Because she didn’t want to lose them. Because it was their only proof she loved him, and the only proof Ben loved her.

“I didn’t know they were anchors, or anything like that,” Rey said, begging with her eyes for him to understand.

“If you had left them behind, it probably would have been much worse,” Ben reassured her. “I most likely would have destroyed them when I came back for you…”

She remembered seeing that moment of devastating rage in his memories when he’d returned to the hut to find her gone. And feeling acutely his sense of utter betrayal.

“Okay. Well, that makes sense,” she agreed, feeling mollified. “We went into the forest, deep into it. To hide. Luke told Finn to keep me safe. Because something bad was coming for me…”

Ben stilled.

“And then we found this enchanted place. Like a magical pool or something. And there was a voice… and…it _called_ to me.”

“What did it sound like?” Ben asked subtly. “The voice?”

“Oh! It was beautiful, but… I can’t describe it. But I _saw_ it, the voice, if that makes sense? And then it said…it said…”

She started crying again.

“What did it say, sweetheart?”

“It said our union would unleash an army of shadows across the land and usher in the Crimson Dawn…that’s why we shouldn’t…do any magic together…you know?” They’d shared blood magic and bridged their minds in Rey’s dream and decimated it… If they ever did that in the mortal realm…

“Okay. That makes sense,” Ben agreed. “It doesn’t sound too bad, so far.”

Rey wasn’t fooled a bit. It sounded really, really bad so far, and they both knew it.

“And since we were already married, I didn’t know what to do…”

“Of course you didn’t… I – I understand,” he soothed.

“So, Luke found us eventually, and I told him what I saw. _Heard_. And he…he told me what I had to do.”

To willingly give her memory to Luke and agree to wipe all knowledge of her existence – and Ben – from her mind…

She shuddered in his arms and he squeezed her in reassurance. This was the worst part.

“What else, sweetheart?” Ben asked after a pause.

“Ben. The voice told me you traded yourself to become Hades. It said you did it the day we married... it said you would use those powers to destroy your master and end all time.”

“Oh.” An awkward pause…

“The vision or voice or whatever told me… Hades would die by my own hand. And, well, that’s _you_ , right?”

“Yeah, but just don’t kill me?” he joked.

“Ben! This is serious!” She smacked his shoulder.

“Hey! Watch those hands!” he chuckled.

“No really, I saw it, the shape of it. Solid and clear. You were dead because of me…” Tears dripped down her cheeks again, and Ben wiped her face with a corner of the sheet.

“Well. I have my whip and I’m Master of Death, so…it should be fine,” Ben reassured her.

“No. That’s the part that … that … I couldn’t tell you…”

“What?”

“If you die by my hand, then…because of my wish…you can’t come for me…and, if you go before your master and destroy him, the next thing that happens is the end of all time…Like. Of Everything.”

“Oh.” He paused for a full minute, digesting the information. “So…try not to kill me, then, and … everything should be fine…?”

“Obviously I don’t want to kill you!” she huffed, exasperated.

“I’m sure the thought has crossed your mind once or twice,” he scoffed gently.

“You’re sure…you’re Hades, right?” she finally asked.

“Yeah. I am.”

“It’s not like, an honorary title, or something?”

“No. Just me.”

“It’s not like…?”

“No. It’s … I’m him,” Ben admitted reluctantly.

“So, what should we do?”

“We are going to figure this out. It all goes back to the anchors…”

“Don’t you have to send the last ones to that … guy?”

Ben laughed. “Yeah.”

“What if you don’t?” she asked fearfully.

“Then…he will send his creatures to retrieve them…and then he’ll…” Ben stopped. He did not need to tell her what would happen to him if he failed Snoke. She’d already seen the creature’s threats in Ben’s memories.

If he did not send the anchors to Snoke, he would be stripped of his powers and tortured into eternity.

“There is no way this ends well, is there?” he mused. “What _exactly_ did the voice tell you?”

“It said: _By your union shall an army of shades cross the land and usher in the Crimson Dawn._ _By your own hand will Hades fall to the Underworld, never to return to the mortal realm again. Once chained, if adamantine, Hades’ master shall Death slay. And so, Hades will bring about the end of all time_.”

______________

He released a puff of breath through his lips on a long exhale. _Fuck_.

“Yeah. That sounds a lot worse than I was expecting, to be honest,” he finally admitted.

She started crying again.

“Hey, we are in the Happiest Place on Earth, you shouldn’t cry, baby,” Ben soothed, rubbing her back and bouncing her gently on his leg.

Rey snorted. “Ben. This is Sin City, not Disneyland…”

“Well, that’s true enough.” He shifted her in his arms, getting a better grip around her before he went on.

He nuzzled her ear and she giggled. He wondered if his facial hair tickled her.

She smoothed her palms over his naked chest and started kissing his neck. He put his mouth on hers and gave her a lingering kiss. She tasted like sweet syrup and coffee, and fuck, it was making him hard.

“You sent me away, and I _missed_ you. So much,” he said, pressing his lips against hers with honied allegation.

“I’m so sorry, Ben…”

“Well, we still need to talk about your punishment…”

She wriggled around until she straddled his lap and gave him a sultry smile.

“There’s got to be something I can do to make it up to you? To apologize?” she murmured into his mouth.

He kissed her again and felt her hands sweep over the contours of his chest before moving lower…

She gave him a smile sweet enough to tempt the fates and slid her hand around his stiffening cock, and then her smile heated into pure sin as she stroked him, forcing a hiss of air to escape his parted lips.

_Oh, you sly girl. There’s no fucking way you’re getting out of giving me my due…but in the meantime…_

In the meantime, he was becoming _extremely_ interested to see how she intended to apologize…

He leaned back against the headboard and cocked an eyebrow at her…

“I’m sure there’s something you want me to do…?” she repeated, her breath hot against him. “Like this?”

She moved a hand lower and cupped his balls before leaning forward to give him a searing kiss. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, savoring the soft wet texture of her.

She pulled back and he noticed how his beard had abraded and pinkened the skin around her lips. 

_…damn, she’s beautiful…_

She lifted a brow in return and crawled down until she knelt between his thighs.

_Oh, yes. She is definitely trying to get out of her punishment…_

But. He would let her finish what she was doing before doling out any retribution…

She held his gaze and licked her lips, then wrapped them around the flared head of his dick until he flung his head back at the sweet pressure of it…

Hell, yes, she could do that. She could do whatever she wanted…

He speared his fingers into her silky hair and groaned, clutching her head, and holding back her hair so he could see her lick and kiss him from root to tip. 

Fuck. This might just kill him. 

He was too big to fit all the way into her, too big by far, but damn if he wasn't going to do his best to get her to take as much as she could. 

She clutched at his thighs and looked up at him as if asking if she should go on. 

“Suck,” he commanded with a tilt of his chin.

He reached down to hold himself in her mouth, squeezing and rubbing the length of his shaft that couldn't fit into her mouth, bumping his fist against her lips until he could only gasp raggedly at the decadence of it.

All he could do was watch in rapture as she bobbed slowly up and down between his legs and all he could feel was the way her tongue swirled around the head of his dick, flicking over the tip to catch the moisture trickling forth.

_Aw, that feels so fucking good._

The only sounds he could hear were his own throaty growls and the wet smack and slide of her lips moving over him and her excited moans that vibrated through every pore of his skin…

She clung to his thighs for balance and her warm, wet mouth pulled and licked him until he could only grunt every time her tongue delicately stroked over a sensitive spot, just under the head…

“Is this getting you wet?” he murmured, riveted on how her mouth wrapped around him and the way her eyelashes swept over her cheeks, her eyes cast down with singular focus.

She moaned loudly and bobbed her head faster.

“Sucking my cock makes your pussy wet?” he demanded, more urgently this time.

“Mmmmhhhmmm,” she moaned.

“Can’t talk cause your mouth is too full, isn’t it?” he grunted, thrusting his hips into her face until that delicious crawling pleasure gathered at the base of his spine.

“Mmmmm…”

“That’s okay…” he gasped, “…you can tell me how good I taste after I come down your throat…”

He stroked himself faster now, less controlled.

“You gonna swallow me down like a good girl?”

Her breathing was getting ragged, too, and he could feel her choke just a bit as he bumped against the back of her throat. 

“Mmmmhhhmmmm…” she moaned and nodded again, fingernails digging lightly into his thighs…

That last, that eager compliance hummed through him like lightning, and she growled and sucked on him so hard he thought he was going to black out.

He gritted his teeth and muttered, _“Oh, fuuuuck, I’m gonna come…”_

He felt his dick strain and jerk in his hand before he spilled himself into her in hot spurts that she eagerly swallowed down, the divine pressure of her mouth and tongue drawing forth every last drop, until her mouth was full and overflowing and cum dripped from her lips.

He could only stare at her, panting, eyes glazed, as he watched her lick her lips and crawl back into his lap.

It was the sexiest thing he’d ever fucking seen.

“Damn,” he gasped. “That was awesome, baby. Thanks.”

He gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek and she curled against him like a satisfied cat. 

He hadn't had an orgasm for ages. Not since...right before she'd sent him away.

Which reminded him.

“Did you use it?” he asked. “The toy I sent you?”

“No…” she replied, shyly tracing her finger over his collarbone. “I…couldn’t…”

“Couldn’t bring yourself to come without me, could you?” A note of satisfaction in his question wrung the truth out of her.

“I couldn’t even think about it…” she said.

His hand slid lower to squeeze between her legs, to find the evidence of her desire making her thighs slippery. He moved her leg a bit and pushed two fingers inside her, drenching them with her slickness.

“…your poor neglected little cunt…” he crooned sympathetically, stroking her clit until she writhed under his hand.

Red lips parted, eyes black, he pushed his fingers into her mouth smiling as she enthusiastically slurped at them.

He did it again, and her legs quivered as his thick fingers stretched her, caressing her from inside…

This time he brought his hand to his own mouth, savoring the taste of her with a soft groan.

“Mmmmm…goddamn, I love the way you taste…I’m really going to enjoy taking my vengeance on your pretty little hide…”

“Do you want to? From _Devil’s Darkness?_ ” she said, covering his neck in little sucking kisses that made him hum. "That's what you meant...?"

“I really do…” he replied. “Are you gonna fight me?”

“Hell, yes,” she told him, nibbling on his earlobe until he shivered. “Isn’t that…what you want?”

“Oh, yeah.”

He moved so quickly, she didn’t have a chance to stop him, flipping her out of his lap and landing on top of her with a wolfish smile.

He kissed the side of her neck and ran his hands over her arms until he pinned them over her head, lapping at her neck and earlobe so enthusiastically she barely noticed he’d trapped her…

“Now. Time to give the Devil his due…”

“You aren’t really going to punish me right now,” she teased.

“Hell yes, I’m going to. You totally deserve it.”

She tried to push away, but his grip tightened further, and his hot breath hit her neck.

“I think you seem to have trouble remembering your wedding vows, don’t you?” He allowed a slightly sinister edge to creep into his voice and was pleased to note how she shivered.

“But! I just  _apologized!_ That’s not fair!” she shrieked wildly, struggling in earnest, now. He pressed her hips into the bed with his own, locking her in place.

“Who said anything about _fair?_ ” He snapped, sitting up abruptly. He grasped either side of her shirt and ripped it open, sending buttons flying.

 

She tensed as he opened the shirt to expose her, his predatory eyes watching the way her breasts rose and fell as her breathing hitched. “You can’t escape your penance just because you gave me one hell of a hummer…”

He braced his arms on either side of her ribcage, leaned over, and swiped the flat of his tongue over her nipple.

“Oh, fuck!” she screamed as he wrapped his lips around her and drew so hard his cheeks hollowed and a fine sheen of sweat broke out over her body.

It had been far too long since he’d done that…

“We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet…” he murmured darkly before turning his attention to her other nipple, rolling it between his tongue and teeth until she thrashed under him. “…well, fun for me…”

He slid down, until his mouth hovered over her flat belly, caressing her soft skin on the way down. She watched him, watched as his tongue slid over her flesh leaving a trail of wet heat in its wake.

His eyes glowed mischievously, and she hoped he would keep going.  

Their gazes locked, and she stilled. It was hard to fight him when she wanted him so badly.

But he simply lifted his head, grinning at her before he knelt and flipped her over, pushing her head into the mattress.

“What the hell?” she screeched. 

He conjured two pairs of handcuffs from thin air and straddled her, slapping one end around a bedpost and then each hand, spreading her arms wide.

He scooted down until his thighs anchored her bucking hips.

She tried to glare at him over her shoulder and yanked her hands against the cuffs, testing their strength.

She knew for a fact she could get out of them at any time – there was nothing magical about those cuffs – and she wondered vaguely how far she would let him take this…

She guessed she would let him take things as far as he wanted. He’d been in her mind and seen everything…he knew exactly what she wanted…and she knew what he wanted, too.

They understood each other. Perfectly.

She felt him lunge away from her, to the breakfast cart, and watched out of the corner of his eye as he grabbed a knife from it…

“Honestly, the harder you fight, the better it will be when I win, sweetheart,” he growled, settling himself over her once again, “So. Please. By all means, put some _effort_ into your escape…”

She tried to unbalance him with an upward push of her hips, but his thighs gripped her and all it did was bounce him roughly, knocking the air out of her lungs.

“Oh, baby, am I gonna have to tie your legs down, too?” he bit out, a little breathless himself now. “Because I am -” he sliced open the sleeves of her shirt “- more than happy to do whatever it takes…”

He ripped the sleeves from her arms, and the sound of him shredding it into strips tore through the room, sharp as lightning.

She tried to kick at him, but he ducked out of the way far too easily. Then he used the scraps of fabric to tie her ankles to the bedposts, until she sprawled out before him, immobile.

He crawled between her spread legs and lightly brushed the flat of his palms over her butt, then inner thighs, sweeping his thumbs over the sensitive flesh between her legs in an almost worshipful gesture.

He licked the crease of her inner thigh, then sank his teeth playfully into the curve of her derriere before crawling up to lay on top of her, pressing his nose into the side of her neck with a muffled grunt.

He was heavy and furnace-hot, and the sensation of him bearing down on her made her stomach flutter excitedly.

“I must say I’ve been looking forward to this…” he murmured harshly against her rapidly escalating pulse. “You’ve been an appallingly bad girl. But, I’ll be nice and let you choose. Whip? Or hand?”

“That’s – that’s barbaric!” she cried, flinging the word at him with as much derision as she could…

“I’m a fucking barbarian, then,” he hissed at her, twisting her hair into his grasp, and dragging her head back to meet her eyes with unconcealed menace.

His dark chuckle filled the room.

“ _Whip? Or…Hand?_ ”

Her voice shook. “H-hand?”

“You think that’ll make me go easier on you? It won’t,” he snarled.

He ran his palms down her naked body. Slowly.

“…You forget the _legions_ of souls these hands of mine have taken…” he informed her as he crudely stroked her from neck to hip.

She bit back a whimper, a reflexive reaction to the blatant honesty of his words, and the sexual hostility radiating out of him.

“I am going to break you into a million little pieces, baby…isn’t that what you deserve?”

“Yes,” she groaned, twisting her head around to look at his face. He kissed her, then, hot and open-mouthed, a crude thrust of his tongue into her mouth, before his lips curled back in a knowing sneer.

He moved off her, until he knelt between her spread thighs. She felt him caress the round cheeks of her butt before he muttered, “By the time I’m done with you…You won’t be able to sit down for a week…not without remembering the exact shape and feel of my hand on your ass…”

Her heart started pounding…the anticipation was killing her, and he knew it…

“First things first,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You tried to kill me.”

“I’m sorry!” she shouted into the pillow. She really, really was.

When the flat of his hand smacked into her butt with a ringing slap, it stole her breath and she screeched into the mattress at the sting of it.

“Thought I was going to go easy on you for that?” he barked, even as he smoothed a warm palm over the spot.

“No…” she moaned, gasping as he soothed the sting away.

"Should I have?"

"No!"

“Then, you tried to kill me _again_ …” he spat savagely. He sounded furious.

Her pulse picked up double-time. Every brain cell she had became hyper-aware of his hand and her tingling flesh. Nothing existed in her world except the keen expectation of when that massive palm might land on her again.

_Smack!_

“Ouch!” she choked. “I’m sorry!”

“You should be! It’s not nice to try to kill me, baby. _Not at all._ ” Fuck, he sounded so scary, her blood simmered under her skin...

_Smack!_

“I won’t! I promise!” she cried.

His voice darkened. “And then…you fucking sent me into a nightmare and almost left me there forever…that was _really_ bad of you, baby…”

“I know!”

_Smack!_

“And?”

“I’m sorry!”

_Smack!_

Okay, that one hurt. She squirmed and cried out. He laughed.

Her twisted fucking husband was _enjoying_ this. But so was she, so…

_Smack!_

She squealed at the shock of pain, followed by his soft stroke over what she was sure would be her now bright-red skin. 

“And _that_ was for wishing me away…” he grumbled.

An errant tear formed and dripped onto the bed. She wasn’t sure if it was from the stinging on her backside or from feeling true remorse of what she’d done…

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. Ow, her ass cheeks were going to be stinging for days, she was sure. But adrenaline was now flowing freely through her veins and she could hear his excited breathing behind her.

 _Oh, fuck yes…_ When his finger slid between her legs and twitched over her clit, she groaned loudly as every nerve-ending in her body fired up in response to his gentle strokes…

“You like that?” he uttered. “Feels good?”

“Yesss,” she hissed, lifting her hips to give him better access. She was frighteningly close to an orgasm.

“You’re dripping wet, baby. _Fuck._ ”

His other hand kneaded the tender flesh he’d just spanked, and he murmured, “Now for the hard part…”

 _Oh. Shit._ Her pulse picked up to an impossible tempo.

He slipped a finger inside her and she reflexively clenched around him.

“You haven’t been fucked for a while…and I promise I’ll do it," he vowed. "…I know how much you need my cock…”

His words sent lust crawling through her until her nipples pebbled and more wetness seeped between her legs.

He slipped another finger inside her and started thrusting them in a shallow imitation of sex. 

“Yes! Please!” she begged, lifting her hips in the cadence of his prodding fingers. She needed _more_ …and it had been sooo long since she’d had an orgasm…

“…I promise I’ll fuck you as long and hard as you want…” he murmured softly, “Just as soon as we make sure your wedding vows have really…sunk in…”

She felt him grip her, forcing her to hold still, ass in the air, ankles straining against their bonds.

“Don’t move,” he ordered hoarsely.

And then he put his mouth between her legs and swept the flat of his tongue over her exposed pussy, and it felt so good she grunted like an animal, desperate for him to keep going.

He spread her wide and she felt his tongue push into her, curling up, as far as he could reach.

“Oh, fuck, yes!” she moaned.

He lapped at her for a few minutes, teasing her until she squirmed and whimpered.

Then he stopped, kissed her gently, right at the base of her spine, and murmured, “Whip? Or hand?”

_Oh…crap…he isn’t done yet…_

She replied before she could stop herself. “Whip.”

A pause.

“You sure about that?”

Yes. She was absolutely sure.

“You little deviant…I fucking knew it…” he chuckled. “I know what you want. You perverted little girl.”

She felt him stroke down her legs and untie her ankles, then the handcuffs fall away from her wrists.

“I am going to make you beg me for it, baby,” he promised. “And then. Then you’re going to thank me after…you ready?”

She pulled in a deep, shuddering breath. “Yes…”

“Turn around.” His voice cracked with authority. She obeyed without a second thought. She would let him punish her. And then she was going to let him fuck her blind.

His eyes were black with want…and dark magic.

She realized he would need to use magic to control his whip, or he’d accidentally send her to the Underworld.

_I’m sure._

Devilish fire glittered back at her from his eyes, now, and he pulled his whip from the air and set it on the foot of the bed.

Her body prickled with fresh fear at the sight of it. It looked quite lethal, sitting coiled between them.

“Crawl over here.” He crooked a finger to punctuate his order, and the gesture sent clutching spasms of desire pulsing through her.

She crawled slowly to the edge of the bed, watching his face grow flushed and his chest lift and fall with his heavy breaths…A flicker of demon-red flashed across his eyes and his hair lifted just slightly in a non-existent breeze.

“Kiss it,” he demanded.

She bent, widening her arms into a bow, and kissed the black leather handle. It was hot enough her lips stayed warm after she lifted them away.

“Good girl,” he whispered, stroking her hair, pushing his thumb over her jaw.

She smiled at him. She really did want to be good.

“Now. _Lick_ it,” he ordered in a voice like gravel sliding over solid rock. Low and menacing.

She shivered.

She splayed her arms and bowed again, sliding her tongue along the wrapped leather. Delicious pleasure sank into her as she realized…it tasted devastatingly familiar. Like a hint of diesel and black licorice and fire and brimstone. And the salty, tangy, bitter musk of _him_.

An involuntary groan escaped her lips as she did it, as anticipation and desire and fear coalesced in her veins until it burned and simmered…

“Very good, baby.”

His hand came into view and wrapped around the handle, sliding the whip off the bed.

She lifted her eyes to his to see him staring down at her as if…as if he owned her, body and soul.

And she knew he did…

“Now. _Beg me._ ”

“Please? Won’t you?” she murmured, gazing at him in fascination as the tip of his tongue moistened his bottom lip.

He uncoiled the whip and chills chased up and down her spine.

“That’s not begging, baby…” He was staring at her with such fire her heart skipped a beat.

“Turn around. Stay on all fours…” he instructed.

She did, nervous passion whipping through her veins. She couldn’t see what he was doing…

“Since you’re so into being _fair_ , I think…one lash for each vow should do it…although this is going hurt like a motherfucker…” he pronounced ominously.

“Okay. Yes…” she said.

“Repeat after me…”

He spoke their first wedding vow, and she repeated it.

And when she was done, she heard an evil snap and hiss through the air, right before a line of fire whispered across her upper thighs.

It didn’t really hurt at all, she realized, swallowing the lump of fear lodged in her throat.

“ _I will always desire you_ … You never really had a problem with that one,” he muttered. “What do you say to me?”

“Th-thank you…?”

“You’re welcome, baby. And…?”

“More…please?”

“Good girl. When I’m done, I’m going to fuck you so hard...I promise.”

She could feel herself growing impossibly wet. Frantic with need. But she would not move. Not until he told her she could.

Four more, and then he would fuck her. He’d promised…

She would be good. She could do this.

“Next one…” He spoke the next vow, and she repeated it, her voice a bit shakier this time.

_I will ever speak gently and sweetly to you…_

She’d said some pretty awful things to him. Called him names… told him to fuck himself…

This time, she flinched when she heard the snap of the whip, but again, only a faint line of fire whispered across her butt.

“It wouldn’t be fair for me to punish you when I’m guilty of the same thing… We’ll call that one a draw, shall we?”

“O-okay,” she agreed. “Thank you!” she blurted out before he had to prompt her.

But, oh, shit, she knew what was coming next. And there was no getting around this one…

_I will never hurt you._

She _had_ hurt him. So many times… Physically, yes. And even worse…she’d broken his heart. Also a few times…

“I’m waiting,” he growled.

“More. Please?”

When the strike landed a strangled gasp escaped her lips. Searing fire unlike anything she’d ever felt licked across her upper thigh, across the meaty part of her butt, into her lower back.

He was right. It hurt like a motherfucker.

“You really deserved that one…” he commented softly… “Didn’t you?”

“Yes…” she sobbed.

“What do you say to me, baby?”

_“Thank you…”_

“You’re very welcome,” he said politely. "Two more. And then I'm going to make you come _so hard_..." 

She drew in a shaky lungful of air. Two more…

She heard the impatient snap of the whip. She was keeping him waiting…

“More. Please…” she begged raggedly.

“After me…”

She spoke the words and fought herself from flinching away as the whip snapped through the air...

_I will always come for you._

This was the one that she knew had twisted his heart into knots. Because of her wish, she’d made it impossible for him to follow through on it.

She heard a loud crack ignite the air behind her and a hot breath of the whip licking at her inner thigh. It barely touched her, just a swipe of flame so close to her pussy she could feel its hot caress…

She had to pull in a deep breath on a choking grunt at the exquisite pleasure-pain of it…

“You _did_ come for me…you should get a reward for that one, I think. Don’t you?”

“Yes…thank you…” she breathed. Her clit was fucking _twitching_ with eagerness...that last one had been...unbelievable. 

“You’re welcome, baby,” he replied silkily. He knew full well what he'd just done.

She was a sweaty mess by now…this was turning her into a raving madwoman. She wanted that feeling again…

“Please…please won’t you do that again…?” she begged, throwing pride entirely out the window. 

“We’ll see,” he uttered.

He snapped his whip to the side, pulling her attention back to the task at hand.

 _One more._ Her nerve-endings zapped with expectation.

“…I will always forgive you. _Say it._ ”

She did. And never more in her life had she meant anything so sincerely. 

________________

 

They lay sideways across the enormous bed in his penthouse, dozing peacefully after the tumultuous and very thorough working over he’d promised to give her.

And how he had. Her backside tingled a bit, a tantalizing reminder of the previous hours.

His punishment had really been more of a reward than anything, she thought smugly, cuddling into the deliciously sweaty warmth of him. 

“Are you sure Sin City isn’t the Happiest Place on Earth?” Ben murmured sleepily into her hair.

Before she could reply, the entire building shook and an ear-splitting, booming rumble fragmented the air. Like thunder only much, much louder. And infinitely more sinister.

Ben jumped out of bed and ran to the window, cursing.

“Ben, what is it?” Rey cried, following him to the window. “Is it the … Crimson Dawn?”

Swirling black smoke appeared on the Strip below, whirling and sweeping through pedestrians and cars on a maelstrom of destruction before forming into dozens of … _creatures_ storming toward Canto Bight.

“No, that isn’t the Crimson Dawn.” He turned to Rey. “That’s all Hell breaking loose…”

The building shook again, rumbling so hard Rey had to brace herself against the windowsill.

 _“FUCK!”_ Ben bellowed.

They both stared in awe as a massive beam of red light split across the sky in a malevolent geyser of furious energy, crackling and susurrating with such power the air vibrated. It sizzled and snapped, scything through the glowing-red sky in a massive percussion that webbed across the horizon.

Rey gasped as every hair on her body stood straight up in sheer terror.

“…I think,” Ben whispered. “. _..that_ …is the Crimson Dawn…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Double-cliffhanger. You can blame that on my group chat ladies. They said it would be okay.
> 
> I know. Still evil. 
> 
> Before you get too worried about it, trust me, the second half of their sex scene is for sure happening. For the pace and flow, and to keep the story moving along, as well as a few plot points for the story’s sake, it will be delivered as a flashback next chapter.
> 
> You’ll just have to trust me. To quote Ben...“It’s my story. I can do whatever I want.” 
> 
> XOXO, and to every single one of you who has commented, kudos-ed (that’s a word), bookmarked, subscribed, tweeted or DM’d me, I FRICKING LOVE YOU.
> 
> I have a feeling this is going to be a wild ride up to the very end…
> 
> -Amy B.


	15. Hell to Pay

**A Few Hours Ago -**

“Who owns your soul, Rey?” he demanded hoarsely.

“You do…”

At her ready agreement, possessive fire flared through his chest: He _loved_ collecting souls, even more than playing with fire, and to have hers so freely given was … divine.

That last stroke of his whip had been… _unbelievably_ delicious.

She turned her head and met his eyes giving him a husky, “Thank you.”

“We’re not done, yet,” he muttered darkly, brandishing his whip again. She gasped. 

He flicked the tip over her with deliberate control, making sure it slid gently across her lower back and buttocks, then again over the backs of her thighs before ever-so-lightly kissing the pink flesh of her sex.

He’d watched greedily as it snaked across her sensitive skin and could practically feel for himself the lash’s tingling heat, as he literally whipped her into a frenzy.

She’d whimpered and babbled and thrashed involuntarily as he repeatedly licked it across her smooth skin, the sight of her flesh reddening from the heat somehow both indecent and yet… _right_ …

He wasn't stopping until he finally had her begging in earnest. Just like he'd promised.

Eventually, she _was_ crying for him over her shoulder with shaking breaths and pleading eyes. _Please. Please, Ben, please…_

Yes. Unbelievably delicious.

The yearning in her voice and gaze sent waves of intoxicating power crashing through him, filling him with lust and shadowed need.

He smiled softly and climbed on the bed to hover behind her and hold the handle of his whip to her mouth.

“Taste it _now_.”

She obediently licked the woven leather, flicking her tongue delicately as a kitten sipping cream from a cup.

He found himself growing even more aroused at the sight her doing that…knowing it would taste of both of them.

Her eyes flashed up to his when she realized…

The desperation he saw tempted him closer… He wanted to try it, sample that _particular_ flavor of lust... He loomed over her and lightly set his lips upon hers, pushing his tongue into her mouth to taste them together.

She was warm and sweet, and he wanted her.

Dark magic spilled from him as he wedged her thighs apart and kneeled back, pulling her hips up for his scrutiny.

She complied, allowing him to move her and hold her as he wished, although tiny whimpers of desire punctuated her every breath.

“You liked that?” he murmured, inspecting her body the way an artist evaluates his work before deciding he is finished…

“… _yes_ …”

He swept a hand over her curves, noting the little dimples in her lower back, the light dusting of freckles over her shoulders, the lean firmness of her hips. The sweet, plump flesh between her legs, swollen pink and glistening wet, was very pleasing to look upon, indeed.

It satisfied him to look at her, to feel her under his hands, to know she was trembling and submissive and desirous of him and him alone.

She paid her penance, fair and square.

He left his whip curled next to her on the bed, so he could use both hands to hold her steady and finally do what he’d promised. She let him take his due out of her hide…and now he was going to fuck her senseless.

She screamed into the pillows as he guided his dripping erection into the wet heat between her legs, spearing into her in one long pulse.

_Fuck. So good._

So good his head was spinning and he wanted to just...unleash himself...

He threw himself forward, crushing her under the bulk of his chest, and sank his teeth into the tender meat of her shoulder. He hissed when she cried out whether from pain or pleasure, he didn’t care.

He dragged his teeth to her neck and bit her again, forcing a choked moan from her as he ground himself into her with an especially savage lunge.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he growled, obscenely licking the mark he’d made on her neck.

“...yes…” she groaned “… _yes_ …”

He gripped her hair and yanked her head back to look at him while he slid his other hand beneath her and stroked between her legs.

 “…yes…?” he gasped as her body tightened and clenched around him…

“…yes- _yes_ …” she sobbed.

He would fuck her until she couldn’t _move_ without thinking of him, until she would smell like him forever, and until there was no way she would ever even _think_ of leaving him again…because they would be so intertwined it would be impossible to distinguish between the two of them.

He would _devour_ her every expression, every breath, and when she collapsed into bliss…he would feast on it…

He pushed into her tight hot flesh and gripped her with bruising strength until she writhed helplessly beneath his punishing thrusts, grunting loudly every time the head of his cock bumped against her womb. He would coat her insides with his seed and brand her pretty skin with the evidence of his ownership. He would use his mouth and hands and heat and strength to ensure his possession. He would make sure she knew. He was _taking_ her.

He would sear himself into her flesh and heart and mind until she would never be just herself again.

He was _taking_ , and he was _never_ letting go.

He pulled out and flipped her over, pinning her knees wide on either side and impaled her in a single, smooth stroke, letting out a low growl at the excruciating pleasure of filling her wet, welcoming body.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, locking her head in place so he could look at her, watch her beautiful eyes cling hungrily to his, while he pistoned his hips into her soft heat with the furious pounding of a maelstrom.

He knew he was being rough, but he didn’t care.

She could take it. She wanted it. She _liked_ it...

He observed voraciously as her breasts bounced and her lips parted and a light sheen of sweat shone on her chest and forehead and…it was _his_ , all of it, and it made him smile.

It filled him.

“Fuck, I love you,” he grunted.

“I love you, too, Ben,” she moaned, arching against him with everything she had. His heart skipped in his chest as he saw the certainty in her eyes and felt her yielding softness against his insatiable demand…

He cupped her face with one hand and bore down on her, fully intent on crushing her into the mattress.

She whimpered, and she turned her head and snagged the pad of flesh at the base of his thumb in her teeth.

For some reason that little gesture drove him wild. He bared his teeth and hissed again.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and sought his hands with hers, intertwining their fingers, pushing back with every shove against her.

“Ben,” she breathed. “Don’t stop. _Please_ …”

“ _Mmmh_ ,” he was snarling like a demon as he pumped into her madly. “You feel _soooo_ good, Rey.”

He wasn’t going to last much longer, but he needed to see it, first…to see her shatter...

This wasn’t a spiritual exchange orchestrated in a dream realm. This was pure carnal fusion, a blending. Real and corporeal.

A melding of hearts – it was… _balance_. A clash and a treaty, a race and a respite.

She was already there, meeting him on the battlefield of passion as his equal. His partner. His mate.

The angel to his devil. His other half.

“Let go, baby. Come with me… _come_ …”

And there it was, the soft, vague sweetness of her eyes melting into his, their breaths mingling, her body gripping his, squeezing around him to pull him in and hold him tight, eternal and elemental, even unto the unforgiving darkness of death itself…

Yes. _Yes_.

A strained groan broke from him and all he could do was watch lustily as she tore herself apart under his eagerly thrusting hips while her broken cries of bliss ripped daggers of black rapture through his guts.

He spilled himself into her on a ragged shout of ecstatic release, his whole body trembling violently into hers.

Because he knew. She owned him as much as he did her…and he would never be just himself again.

He speared his fingers into her hair and kissed her as they came down, pressing into her as she pulsed and spasmed around him in the aftermath of orgasm, noting the tears streaming down her face, their shuddering breaths, the frantic pounding of their hearts in unified tempo.

He murmured against her lips, wordless reassurances, and allowed himself to collapse into sweaty bliss when she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his mouth with a naughty quirk of her lips.

He grinned at her and kissed her smile. “You’re welcome, baby.”

He rolled to the side and pulled her on top of him, using a whisper of magic to twitch the sheet over them. She curled quietly against him, and he held her there, happy. Peaceful.

He was finally…sated.

If their wedding night had been an exchange between innocence and experience, of purity and worldliness, then _this_ reunion had been an exchange of equal parts forgiveness and pain between the both of them.

He stroked her hair and allowed himself to contemplate what she’d told him this morning.

 _By your union shall an army of shades cross the land and usher in the Crimson Dawn. By your own hand will Hades die, never to return to the mortal realm again. Once chained, in seeking an impossible escape, his master shall Death slay. And so, Hades will bring the end of all time_.

But their union had already happened ages ago...in a realm beyond mortal boundaries.

He thought uncomfortably of what he'd just done...

He’d always intended to get his whip on her as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

Almost from the start, he knew if he could embed her essence alongside his…the binding of magic would just be one more way to permanently entwine them…

He’d done it so they could rule as _equals_ , so they could be together in those eternal moments in-between storylines…

And to protect her.

If she shared his power with the whip, then she would be safe. He was sure of it. Owning the whip made one immortal. Untouchable.

Even if they never could fully be _written_ together, they would be blended with each other in the spaces between time…

Except...

The thought had brought a chill of foreboding to him weeks ago when he’d been sifting through their shared memories. He’d recalled a particular piece of conversation she’d had with his mother.

_Your powers are in many ways the opposite of his._

_Well, no. You’re not supposed to understand. That is not your role._

_And you are in quite a bit of danger from his…other creatures._

His mother had recognized the danger before he had. His Knights. They would always instinctively seek to destroy her, being what she was…and them being what they were…

And Snoke. Something Snoke had said came ringing back to him with a terrible foreshadowing:

_Darkness rises, and Light to meet it…_

It had been _that_ realization which had prevented him from sending the harp and the mirror to his master.

His _master_ , who had always adamantly _despised_ the light. Who had vowed to _snuff it out_. Who had convinced a young, naïve prince to help him…

Ben had to own the fact he’d willingly agreed to play the role of Monster in Snoke’s machinations…but he’d done it for Rey. His light.

He loved her with the whole of his crooked heart and damaged soul and blackened spirit…and he had to acknowledge to himself, he wasn’t _all_ bad…because no matter how twisted he’d become over eons of monstrosity, he’d been able to stop himself from the worst of it.

And that meant something.

He _had_ been able to do the right thing when confronted with a choice. At the bedrock of his soul, _some_ good remained. Some tiny spark of hope.

And if he never had fully submitted to darkness, then perhaps it was possible to rewrite the story. To be redeemed.

Maybe not all by himself. But with _her_ help? He could do anything.

He wasn’t just going to rewrite the Text.

He was going to destroy it.

Knowing what he knew about her prophesy, he was now doubly glad he hadn’t just killed himself to preempt a new story line…

Now, more than ever he would need to stay far away from the Underworld.

 

Remnants of lust pulsed through him as he observed her while deciding how to handle the extreme chaos unraveling outside in the middle of the Las Vegas Strip.

Ben surveyed the wicked red light of the Crimson Dawn scything across the sky and admitted to himself it might not have been in his best judgement to do what he’d done with Rey…and his whip.

He had gotten the idea from an unlikely source.

She didn’t know it, but he’d found the mirror weeks ago. And he’d been communicating with someone with it…

Anakin Skywalker.

He felt bad for misleading her about the mirror. He’d confirmed her car was safe in the Canto Bight parking garage…which was true enough…

It had been his grandfather who had helped him figure out how to turn back to the light… It had been _he_ who had suggested using the whip to bind himself to Rey’s light, if not in this world, then the next one.

Except now Ben knew there would never be a next one.

 _Our union will unleash_ _an army of shades across the land and usher in the Crimson Dawn._

Upon further consideration, it might have been a _very_ bad idea to repeat their wedding vows out loud to each other and bind themselves together with his whip…

Several small explosions drew his attention as he watched a tour bus careen wildly into the sidewalk full of people below.

_Yep. Terrible idea, grandfather._

_Nice sentiment, though._

“Ben!” Rey shouted, pointing as more _creatures_ swept toward Canto Bight Casino. “We have to do something…we have to stop this!”

He was going to destroy the Sacred Text Snoke had given him.

He couldn’t destroy the anchors. Doing that would create a supernova and thoroughly piss off Snoke.

No. He needed to return the anchors, and destroy the Text…

And then they could be free.

But…to destroy the Text, not just rewrite it…he needed a Jedi. A Skywalker.

Which is why he needed to lure his uncle to him…and get Rey out of the way…for just a little while…

“Ben!” she shouted again, shaking his arm. He kissed her hard on the mouth.

“We have to go. Now!” Ben snapped, whipping his hand up and using magic to don his black leather outfit.

“Where are _my_ clothes?” Rey cried frantically.

In spite of himself, he grinned. “I’m in charge of taking them off, not putting them on, baby.”

Rey huffed and lifted her own hand and dressed herself in…cherry red leather.

“Aw, hell, baby, I love you in that outfit,” Ben whispered, tearing his gaze away from her with effort to survey the Strip below.

“The anchors. Snoke’s creatures are coming for them. If they can't get to the anchors, they'll go for the next best thing: Leverage. I need Luke…Rey. I need to leave,” he commanded in a voice that did not sound like Ben’s…

When he turned back to her, his eyes…his eyes were not _normal_ …They were… _completely_ black, swirling with red sparks…

 _He is Darkwalking and Skywalking at the same time,_ Rey realized… _but with whom?_

 _Han Solo,_ said a voice in her head that was not her own.

“How are you…?” _How is he talking to Han Solo right now?_

“ _Darkwalking_. We share blood,” Ben answered mechanically, gripping her arm. He could hear everything, all of her thoughts…

“Where’s Han?”

“Dad? He’s at the garage…here in Canto Bight. He’s with my mother. And Luke.”

“I thought Han Solo was in Hell! Your mother said people could only get in if they were dead or under exceptional circumstances – ”

“She’s right. And I’ve sent him to Hell so many times…it’s pretty much a revolving door for him at this point…”

“But…I don’t understand!”

“I killed him in the last cycle through…but not yet…not in this one…”

“So. Wait. So, you really have to be dead to get into Hell?”

“Well. Usually. They make rare exceptions. Hux doesn’t like it.”

“But how did I get in last night?”

He turned and kissed her, hard. “Because, sweetheart…We share a soul…remember?”

A deep, rumbling boom emanated from the fiery pyre of red light spearing into the city outside.

“Rey. I have to go out there and stop this.”

“Okay,” she exhaled. “I’m coming with you.”

“NO!” he roared. If he’d ever looked purely like the Devil, it was this exact moment. But she stood her ground.

“ _Ben_. Listen. If that prophesy or vision or whatever is true, then _I_ am the only one who can kill you…and you are the only one who can send _me_ to the Underworld…”

She speared a thought into his head: _I am like you, Ben. ADAMANTINE._

He digested that for a moment, his eyes eerily black.

“Fuck!” he shouted, and his eyes returned to normal.

“What?”

“Dad…he’s… _FUCK!_ ”

“What???” Rey screamed, panicked.

“He said…he’s pinned down. They’re surrounded…and Snoke’s creatures…they are going to use him as a hostage, I think…to lure…”

_Rey. They want her. Not me…_

_Snoke wants her. I need to destroy that Text…_

She heard his thoughts clear as day.

“Okay. I’ll go help them…you go…do your thing…and I’ll meet you…where?”

“I’ll see you in Hell, baby… Be safe. Take this…” He handed her his whip and Rey felt an electric jolt run up her arm.

“Ben…?”

They looked back down onto the Strip below. It was sheer pandemonium. Cars had stopped in the road and tourists were running madly in all directions…More creatures spilled onto the streets below, and Rey could hear screaming even from their room on the top floor.

“Ben! What about you?”

“I don’t need it!” he yelled. “Stand back.”

He held up his hand and blasted the window out, glass exploding cleanly away.

Her heart skipped a beat when he stepped off the edge, but he landed safely in a three-point crouch that cracked the concrete far below.

Rey’s heart stuttered as an unearthly moan rumbled up from where he’d landed.

It became an ear-splitting roar, shaking the building with violent tremors.

From high above Rey looked down in awe…and Ben transformed into a massive, glittering, black dragon, spewing fire into the sky to rival the red glare of the Crimson Dawn...

She supposed he didn’t need his whip after all…

_Han and Leia…shit._

She whirled and bolted for the Canto Bight parking garage with everything she had.

 _I can be a scary fucking monster, too_ , she realized grimly.

_Those animals better not hurt Han or Leia…_

 

**_Las Vegas Strip –_ **

Ben felt the delicious dark swaths of black magic pulse and flow around him as he landed on the street below, splitting the pavement like a cracked egg.

He drew in a deep lungful of air and felt time slide into a halted tempo brought by the darkest of magics... Bolts of energy sizzled over his skin as he transformed himself into his favorite Beast…all powerful, all destructive, and demonically perfect in its beautiful monstrosity…

Dragon.

Heat poured forth from between his fangs, licking out to catch at the ankles of Snoke’s creatures…they ran harder to get away from him, but they were the least of his worries…

Let them run. 

First things first.

He roared, spewing fire into the air and sending any remaining spectators running for cover. Amazingly, people were grouped in storefronts, and huddled on the sidewalks, watching.

Enjoying the Show of Shows, apparently…he guessed watching the world end _would_ be the ultimate Vegas show…

He needed his uncle to come to him…hopefully _this_ would be enough of an attraction – _yes_ …

Luke Skywalker stood two blocks away, glaring furiously at his nephew…

The ground trembled with the force of the Crimson Dawn cutting into the ground. Ben could hear the wicked snap and scorch of power bloating from it, even though it was a good mile down the Strip. It thrummed and crackled, buzzing ominously until the air itself vibrated with doom.

“Ben!” Luke shouted. “Enough is enough!”

Ben roared again, spitting molten-hot fire into the sky…

Luke raised both arms and, like Moses parting the Red Sea, sent a crackling wall of blue energy to cut off either side of the street, shielding the crowds of people on either side of the Strip from the flames of Ben’s wrath.

_He thinks I’m going to hurt someone…_

Ben flared his wings, stabbing the spikes into the ground to brace himself so he could push himself into the sky. Chunks of pavement broke away and flung in all directions as he ripped his claws and wings up with a mighty heave. He pushed himself into the air and soared over the street below, licking flame along his uncle’s shield, hoping to tempt Luke into coming after him…

Hoping to draw his uncle closer to that blaring-red-hot beam of deadly energy spearing down into the earth and put an end to this, once and for all.

If he could get Luke to send the full force of his power into that beam…along with Ben’s power…and the Text…

It was time.

Time for Darkwalking.

For the first time in many, many eons, Ben opened his mind to the Sandman…

_Uncle._

Luke’s presence was vaguely familiar. Careworn and comfortable…solemn and sorry.

_I’ve failed you Ben. I’m sorry._

_I’m sure you are!_

Ben swooped in low and sent a white-hot stream of flame onto his uncle’s head.

Thankfully, Luke shielded himself. Luke glared at the sky with deep annoyance.

_The stories are over, Sandman…The Texts are gone. I have the last one…and when I destroy it…I will have ended this nightmare once and for all…_

_Ben? What are you doing?_

Ben did not reply, but circled around, high over the Strip, watching as his uncle tracked his movements almost lazily.

Satisfied his uncle had caught sufficient hint of his intentions, Ben headed toward the throbbing, pulsing beam of the Crimson Dawn, catching his uncle’s last reaction before he closed their connection…

_Putting an end to this. Story time is over._

_No!_

_Yes, Sandman. And I’m going to destroy an anchor…and everyone else…if you don’t help me…_

Luke started running, and Ben landed a mile down the Strip, close enough to the Crimson Dawn he could feel vast arcs of energy susurrating from the malevolent beam, as big around as a house, cutting across several lanes of the Las Vegas Strip. 

People had long abandoned their cars and fled for the relative safety of the nearby Casinos. Other than the roar from the spear of light splitting into the earth, it was eerily quiet.

It was loud, here, next to it, though.

Ben knew it was only a matter of time before the beam cut a portal into this dimension…

He folded his leathery wings around himself and emerged in his monster’s form, huge and veined with crackling red pulses of raw magic dancing under his skin.

He kept the wings and dragon’s horns, just to remind his uncle _exactly_ who he was.

Knowing he had just minutes before Luke reached him, Ben pulled the Harp from that Place, the Elsewhere, and snapped it against his thigh, watching as it transformed from a harmonica into a lap-harp, curved and ancient-looking.

Several shiny little beans fell out of it.

He set the Harp on the ground and began to speak in the language of darkness, pushing the seeds deep into the earth…

Now for the Skywalking. He pulled Rey’s copy of _Devil’s Downfall_ into his hands…

A vine sprouted from the ground where the seeds disappeared, climbing over and around the roaring beam of light that speared down from the sky.

Ben set the book onto a wide leaf, catching his uncle’s eye.

Luke ran up, panting, and gaped in outrage.

Luke had his eyes glued to the book and pressed his lips together in frustration as it floated up and out of reach, carried away as it rested on a broad green leaf near the top of the vine.

 _"Choose, Sandman,"_ Ben threatened in his most frightening devil’s voice. _"You can only save one, and I will destroy the other. The Text or the Harp?"_

Luke glanced anxiously between the Text floating high above them and the Harp on the ground at their feet.

Luke took a deep breath. “Skywalking, huh?”

Ben bared his fangs and pushed a stream of dark magic into the giant beanstalk erupting from the middle of the street.

It wrapped around the beam of light, growing exponentially, choking out the light like a huge python, constricting and pulling the energy into itself as it climbed recklessly into the sky.

Ben allowed a ripple of dark power to unfurl his wings, tipped with razor-sharp spikes and reeking of the acrid stench of fire and brimstone. He grunted, deep and gravelly, knowing it was menacing as…well, menacing as Hell, actually.

“Promise me that’s the only Text you have,” Luke uttered, not intimidated in the slightest at his nephew’s terrifying appearance.

“It is,” Ben snarled, eyes red with ferocious threat.

Luke nodded.

And then, as if he’d intended to do it all along, Luke lifted his hand and set it against the thickly-rooted beanstalk…and began speaking in a language Ben had all but forgotten…

Ben towered over his uncle, moving cautiously to stand next to him. The magic beanstalk, now thick as a tree, continued to grow and climb into the sky, silently but surely wrapping itself around the searing light of the Crimson Dawn.

Ben set his huge, clawed hand on the pulsing green flesh…

…and began to speak alongside his uncle.

Skywalking…

Together they drew on their powers and bound the Sacred Text into the crushing green grip of a magic beanstalk…and he could _feel_ it, sense the exact moment when it simply…dissolved…

But they weren’t done, yet, and Luke met Ben’s eyes as they acknowledged they needed to destroy the beam of light piercing the sky, as well…and fast.

They struggled together, trying to pull down and capture a force of darkness meant to split the planet into a new dimension.

Ben could feel himself straining against the limits of his formidable powers…as was his uncle…

“Ben. I’m sorry.” Luke grunted, even as he pushed on the beanstalk until it fluxed with ripples of bluish webs of light.

His eyes begged for understanding. And Ben could not tear his gaze away. He dug his claws into the supple fleshy plant and mixed webs of black and red pulses to run alongside his uncle’s magic.

Ben glowered at him. _After everything you put me through?_

Luke stared back at him unblinking, blue eyes blazing with incredible power. With light.

Ben felt himself slipping away under the weight of that gaze…Luke was sorry. For all of it. He was asking for mercy. Understanding… Compassion.

And Ben could grant it.

Forgiveness.

The second he let go of his anger, his power doubled, then tripled. Luke seemed to sense it, too, and released a thump of yellow-white light into the roots, into the very core of the earth it seemed…

Old anger fell away under the stretch of willpower required to harness their magics and force the beanstalk, now miles tall, into a weapon of destruction…

And together, they pulled down the beam of light from the sky and wrapped it into a titanic ball of fluxing energy…and then with a colossal _whomp-whomp! s_ ent it hurling into the ether…

Gasping, Ben fell to his knees, landing next to his uncle with a rough grunt…he snatched the Harp back into that Place, still not fully trusting his uncle.

He listened as the hot desert wind blew gently around him.

Fierce joy speared into his heart as he realized what they had just done.

The Text was gone.

And with the Crimson Dawn destroyed...the shades would go, too...

And Rey.

_She’s safe. Or will be as soon as I get back to my whip…_

He heard her. He could hear her.

Rey.

She was laughing…and it was _beautiful_ …

Ben sent one last thought into his uncle’s mind before whirling himself away on a black cloud, sparked through with red…

_Can you…clean this up? You kind of owe me..._

Luke rolled his eyes and nodded.

“Just go to Hell. I’ve got this.”

 

Rey had managed to find Han and Leia without too much trouble.

She just followed the shadowed creatures crawling around the entrance of the Canto Bight parking garage, snapping Ben’s whip – her whip – sending them back to the Underworld where they belonged.

She was really starting to get the hang of the whole whip thing when everything stopped. 

…she heard an almighty _whomp-whomp_ , so loud it shook the building, rocking her slightly.

Then, _nothing_.

The creatures that had been swarming into the parking garage evaporated before her eyes.

_Han. Leia._

She ran inside and found them huddled next to her old car, grinning like they were having the time of their lives, and not in very recent mortal danger.

“There were more…where are they?” Rey asked, not trusting the appearance of safety.

Han took one look at her and smiled widely.

“Ben said he’d send you…but I think he got them.”

Leia stood, eyeing the whip, and Rey sent it away before Leia could try to take it from her. She knew Leia still didn’t think anyone should have it...

Leia didn’t react, just asked, “Where’s Ben?”

“He said he’d see me in Hell…”

“Hey!” Han groused. “That’s _my_ line.”

Rey smiled, still not entirely comfortable at the immediate blanket of silence covering everything. Not after the chaos she’d just endured in getting here.

They walked outside and the sunshine was bright overhead.

There was no trace of evil red light spearing into the sky, no evidence of mass chaos and pandemonium.

It was as if…

“Luke.” Leia simply whispered.

Rey felt it, too. As if all the destruction had been overwritten with a sense of peace. And purpose.

“Damn. He _is_ good…” Leia muttered, taking Rey’s hand. “Although, I still need to talk to Ben about cleaning up his own goddamn messes…”

Rey laughed and felt a slight swooping sensation as Leia pulled them all together in a whirl of smoke.

Suddenly, they stood at the club entrance, just outside Canto Bight.

Rey marveled at the total normalcy surrounding her.

Tourists walked past on the Strip, talking brightly and pointing or looking at their phones.

The street itself was slightly crowded with traffic. But normal.

Everything was normal.

It was…amazing.

“Hey, baby,” Ben said, and she whirled and flung herself into his arms, gripping him and kissing his face.

“Ben!” she squealed. “You’re okay!”

He winked at her, then nodded at his parents with a smile.

They were strolling hand-in-hand down the sidewalk, Leia resting her head on Han’s shoulder, lost in their own conversation, while the pedestrians flowed around them.

“Luke…fixed everything?” Rey asked, taking in Ben’s smile. It was different. Lighter. Relieved.

“Yeah.” Ben nodded and wrapped an arm around her, steering her onto the sidewalk so they could wander back in the direction of their room.

“We could just…you know…beam ourselves back?” Rey giggled as she felt his large, warm palm slide over the backside of her red leather pants…

He barked with laughter and tucked her closer… “Maybe I want to walk along the Strip with my wife?”

Her heart fluttered wildly at his words. They hadn’t really had much time to just _exist_ together for…so long…

She could see casinos and palm trees up ahead. 

“Ben! This is my first time here…can we…maybe go inside one of these outrageous places? So, I can get the full experience?”

“You can have whatever you want, sweetheart,” he purred, steering her into the nearest casino.

She craned her neck as best she could while maintaining her lock-step with his long legs. She kept a firm grip around his waist, taking in the sounds of slot machines dinging and the smell of cigarette smoke and people moving languorously around gaming tables before –

“Ben!” He stopped as she yanked on his arm.

“What is it, baby?”

He looked so young. So carefree. Finally.

It hit her all at once.

“You did it. Do you realize that? _You did it!_ ”

He grinned at her and pulled her close for a hug, right in the midst of the swarming crowds.

“I finally made you my princess…” he growled against her hair, pulling her into a slow stroll through the casino and into the walkway that would lead them back outside.

“You were right. This _is_ the happiest place on earth,” she murmured against his chest.

“You know we are in a castle, right now?” he chuckled, tilting her chin up with a touch of his finger.

She glanced around. The Excalibur Casino wasn’t exactly her idea of a castle. It kind of looked like a shopping mall with suits of armor in the occasional medieval-looking niche.

“Gah. What a cliché!” she laughed and smacked his arm. “Still. We should celebrate.”

He shook his head, but he was smiling.

“Do you have your wallet?” she insisted. “I’m going to buy you a present.”

He pulled it from thin air with a smirk and a lift of his dark eyebrow.

“I have everything I could possibly want. But…get me something good.” He was beaming at her excitement. It was infectious.

She surveyed the available shops. Everything was kind of tacky…nothing worthy of a prince.

Nevertheless, she hooked her fingers in his and led him into the crowds.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked in mock concern. “And what on earth are you going to buy me?”

“I’ll know it when I see it…” she claimed haughtily, then her eyes lit on the perfect thing.

A Godiva chocolate shop. Perfect. Ben had a sweet tooth. He’d love a treat. And they could share.

He rolled his eyes as she dragged him to the vendor, peering into the glass case filled with delicious candied apples.

The young woman behind the counter looked bored and unimpressed at Rey’s overly-excited exclamations of “Ohhh! How pretty!”

By the time she picked the perfect one for Ben – Dark chocolate with cinnamon and chili, drizzled with caramel and white chocolate – a small line had formed behind them.

She used Ben’s credit card to pay for it, recalling how he’d given her a card to match ages ago. _Rey Solo_ , it said. It was tucked away safely in her desk drawer…

“That looks like a disaster,” Ben muttered ruefully, eyeing the outrageously extravagant treat she held out to him. But his eyes were twinkling with anticipation.

“If you don’t want it, I’ll eat it!” she exclaimed, making as if to take a bite.

“Not so fast!” he laughed. “That’s supposed to be _my_ present!”

She held it to his lips and he steadied her hand with his before he sank his teeth into the ridiculous thing.

“Well?” she smiled as he chewed the sweet bite with gusto. Her smile widened as she noticed he grimaced before swallowing. “Too sweet?”

He looked down at her and breathed a soft, “No.”

_Oh, damn. He doesn’t like it. It must be too over the top._

She pulled back, thinking to try a bite for herself.

A shadow crossed his eyes and he whispered, “No.”

But, before she could take a bite, he’d snatched the apple from her hand and…melted it into a black pile of sticky goo right there on the tiled walkway…

“Ben! What are you…?” Rey hissed. He was drawing attention. People thought they were watching an impromptu magic show and stopped to watch.

“Rey…the apple…” Something was wrong. Something in his voice.

Rey whirled around to the girl at the counter. Only the girl was no longer there. In her place stood a very tall, very blonde, very beautiful woman.

She wore a silver evening gown and a hideously evil smile.

Ben’s former betrothed. Rey recalled her from Ben’s memories.

_Why is she here?_

She whispered, horror dawning at the woman’s hate-filled gaze, “Princess?”

“Not a princess anymore, _peasant_ ,” the woman sneered. “A queen, now, actually. _Evil_ queen, if you _insist_ upon the distinction…”

She smirked at Ben. “Snoke looks forward to seeing you soon, mortal _… Both of you_ …” She walked around the counter and joined the flow of people walking past, blending into the crowd and disappearing.

Rey whipped back around to Ben, who was weaving where he stood.

His eyes were filled with fear. She had never seen that look on his face before. Her entire being turned ice cold.

He sank abruptly to his knees.

People loomed, watching, filming on their damn phones, and Rey shouted, “Call for help! This isn’t a fucking _show!_ ”

_He did not fear mortal injury in this realm. But magical injury…that was something else._

“Call the whip. _Now_.” He ordered her in a gruff whisper. “Do it.”

_He can’t do it himself. He’s conserving his strength._

Rey called his whip to her hand and tried to hand it to him.

He refused to take it but pressed it back into her hands insistently, clenching his jaw.

He collapsed to the ground and was turning dead-white as whatever magical poison he’d ingested begun its work.

He was having trouble speaking…

“Ben!” she shouted, near hysteria. “What do I do?”

She was combing her mind for any available magic and … she couldn’t _think_ of anything …she couldn’t think as his eyes dug into hers and his lips trembled and –

“There’s nothing…” he gasped, gripping her shaking hands in his. “It’s…the storylines…I wasn’t expecting…but now…”

His grip was weak. _Dammit. No._

She pushed into his mind and several in the crowd gasped aloud as they probably saw her eyes turn solid black…

_There were only five storylines left to rewrite. The first was Sleeping Beauty, which I corrupted in your dream, allowing you to vanquish the Beast and become part monster._

_Then, Red Riding Hood, where the Wolf was not killed, but instead survived and absconded with the Cloak._

_The Lamp. Scheherazade became both the Genie and the Wisher._

_The Harp. The Giant used the beanstalk to destroy his enemy instead of being destroyed by a fall..._

_Snow White…only the monster eats the poisoned apple…killed by the princess’s own hand…_

“No! No, but you  _destroyed_ the Text!” she argued, confused. If she could just explain, he could fix it. This couldn’t be happening. She shook her head in disbelief.

“I thought if we destroyed the Text…I could…” he coughed. A shudder wracked his body, and several people in the crowd shouted for help.

“Ben!” Fear pulsed through her, and tears streamed down her face.

“Rey. Send them…the  _anchors_. To Snoke.” He was choking now. “You _must_. The realms are still connected…”

He slipped the mirror from his pocket and pushed it to her.

“Please,” he begged. He pressed her compact into her hand and pled with his eyes as he’d never done before.

Rey stood and unfurled his whip, tears pouring down. She slithered their whip around the mirror and listened dispassionately as it disappeared to the sound of a loud, echoing gong, like reverse thunder.

The crowd, if fascinated before, looked frightened. People began murmuring and fleeing.

Rey had eyes for no one and nothing except her husband.

 _He’s dying_.

_I’m going to send the anchors. Will that help? Snoke will not be able to enter this realm, ever, if I unlink our realms... Because he's destroyed the Text and closed the portal…_

She pulled the Harp from the air and sent it, too.

This was the last one, and when she sent it, it was not like the others.

The last one ripped through the air, like a massive cable tearing through the foundations of the earth itself.

If people had been running before, now they were sprinting away. Screaming.

Rey didn’t fucking care.

The realms were no longer anchored.

She became acutely aware, hyper-focused on everything about him.

She could hear it. His heartbeat.

_ka-thump…ka-thump…ka-thump…ka-thump…_

“Rey…this was the only way to…” His eyes begged for forgiveness. She could see every strand of color, every shade of brown from whiskey to butterscotch...

_ka-thump…ka-thump…ka-thump…ka-thump…_

She could hear him, a whisper in her mind, his voice velvety-soft and lovely.

_It’s the last storyline, Rey. You can’t follow me…_

“Ben! You promised! You _promised_ me!!!” she sobbed, dropping back to him, clutching him to her with inhuman strength.

“I’m…sorry, sweetheart…” he murmured. He looked…truly sorry and Rey shook her head in denial.

"This isn’t real. This isn’t."

His head lolled back, large body shivering as the poison overtook him.

_ka-thump…ka-thump…ka-thump…_

_You vowed…promised…forgive me…_

She could hear his pulse, thumping along far faster than it should be…before it slowed to an unsteady thud –

_ka-thump…_

_…ka-thump…_

She knew what he meant to do a heartbeat before he did it.

_…ka…thump…_

He lifted a hand. Weakly, he stroked her face and she clutched his trembling fingertips like a lifeline.

“No! Oh, no, Ben _– NO!”_ she screamed until her throat was raw. “Please don’t! Please don’t! _Please_ –”

But it was too late.

_…ka…thump…_

All memory of his power, dark and light, poured from his skin in wickedly swirling tendrils, attaching to her as if by a magnet.

_Once chained, adamantine, Hades’ master Death shall slay…_

But, without his memories, he would not be adamantine…

He meant to go to Snoke powerless. As nothing more than a man. A mortal.

And his knowledge of his powers, his magic, needed a vessel, somewhere to reside…so, he would give it to her, all of it.

He would turn it over willingly. To a skilled magician…

He would not go to the Underworld armed to kill his master. For that would be the end of everything. It would end her. And he would never allow that to happen.

_…ka…thump…_

_I rewrote them, after all…this was…last one…_

He tried to smile, faint lines forming so briefly around the edges of his eyes as he tried to comfort her… _I’m Snow…White? That’s…ironic…_

His breathing slowed and she clutched him, resting his beautiful dark head in her lap.

Hair black as coal.

_I love you…never regret…_

Futile tears flowed over her cheeks and Rey felt herself welling with unfamiliar darkness and thick clouds of power.

_...always be with you…look for me…in dreams…_

But they had destroyed her dreams. They both knew it would be beyond futile.

Beyond.

A strange helpless rage filled her.

_Ben! NO!!!_

_…ka…thump…_

The light in his eyes began to fade, and Rey screamed denial until their surroundings rattled as if an earthquake hit, glass windows and light fixtures shattering, tiles cracking beneath them. Until the air around them ruptured and fractured and broke with her pain.

_…ka-thump…_

_…you…are everything…love you…not sorry…_

_…don’t…forget…last wish…_

He went limp in her arms as the life left his beautiful amber eyes.

She listened for another heartbeat but heard only dead silence.

_Skin white as snow._

She lifted her hand before her and perceived remnants of red, monstrous energy fluxing through her…Ben's power.

And Ben…he was…just gone.

…and the anchors were gone…

The Text destroyed…

The storyline would never reset itself.

She would be trapped in this realm forever. And he…

He would never be with her again…

His gorgeously carved lips remained slightly parted on his last spoken words.

_Lips red as blood._

But his lips weren’t red anymore. They were chalky white…

They were pale and lifeless as a dead butterfly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. I know some of you have been waiting AGES for me to update this. But...now I've updated, and how do like me now after what I just did? 
> 
> You can bet your asses this story isn’t over, yet. Hang in there, friends. It's a fairy tale. ;)
> 
> Also, special thanks to @3todream3 for Ben’s awesome one liner “I’m in charge of taking them off, not putting them on.” 
> 
> XOXO!

**Author's Note:**

> My works, if you are interested:
> 
> [Music To My Ears](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15121106) (REBOOTING - Classical Music/Assassin AU)  
> [Every Which Way But Loose](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19742149) (A/B/O, drug lords & yachts, short WIP)  
> [Bad Neighbors](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17874359) (A/B/O, Enemies to lovers/cop/lawyer AU, COMPLETE!)  
> [Say It With Feeling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18710287) (Funny, slow-burn Sugar Daddy AU, WIP)  
> [Smoke Gets In Your Eyes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19231210) (short WIP, stoners, smut)  
> [Cake](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17457971) (Darkfic, thriller, WIP, almost done)  
> [Devil on the Dark Side](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16287023) (Modern Fairy Tale, WIP, almost done)  
> [Knotting Hill](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17038721) (A/B/O WIP, will be picking up very soon)  
> [Special Order](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16836562) (one-shot)  
> [GatorWestern](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15502323) (Vampire/Horror WIP, almost done!)  
> [Freak Show](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1098873) (Circus AU, Comedy, one-shot series)


End file.
